


Arkadia Falls

by StealingFire



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Kabby, Modern AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 151,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18887809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StealingFire/pseuds/StealingFire
Summary: Marcus Kane, CEO of Kane & Co Booksellers moves to the small Minnesota town of Arkadia Falls to escape his demons.Recently-widowed Abby Griffin was born in the town and lives there with her eighteen month old daughter, Clarke.They notice each other in a coffee shop but it's a while before they even speak. A friendship slowly blossoms, but do either of these damaged people have the courage to love again?





	1. Chapter 1

Abby Griffin backed into the door of the coffee shop, trying to manoeuvre the stroller over the step as gently as possible so as not to wake the sleeping child within. It was rare for Clarke to be dead to the world this early in the day and she wanted to take advantage of the peace. If she woke now she’d be grumpy and needing attention, and then Abby would never get her chapter finished. The wind was strong, blowing cold against her face as she pushed against the heavy door.  

When she finally got through and turned around to look for a seat she saw that there were ten other people in the shop but none of them had come to help her. They all had their noses stuck in their phones or in books and didn’t even look up when the door chimed as it shut. That noise brought the barista out from the back and he smiled at Abby. It was her favourite one, Lincoln, with his bright white smile and sparkling dark brown eyes.

“Morning, Abby,” he said, and he looked over the counter down at Clarke. “Aah, she’s asleep!”

“Yes, thank God. I’ve been up half the night with her.” Abby was delighted to see her favourite corner table was free, the one with the view of the river and more importantly, space for Clarke’s stroller. She parked the chair at the table and returned to the counter.

“What can I get for you today?” said Lincoln like he did every time, even though she always ordered the same thing and it was never likely to change.

“A flat white, please.”

“Coming up. Take a seat, I’ll bring it to you.”

Abby took off her woollen coat and hat and hung them on the stand at the back of the room. It was only just October, but the heat of summer was already a distant memory and a Minnesota winter was beckoning. She could smell it in the crispness of the air, feel it in the biting wind. She put her bag on the table and pulled out her large yellow legal pad before settling into her chair. She looked down at Clarke who was fast asleep, her small mouth open, pacifier hanging loosely from its blue ribbon.

Lincoln arrived with her coffee. He’d made a series of heart shapes on the top with the milk and she smiled up at him when he put the cup on the table in front of her.

“Thank you,” she said, her heart lifted by his kindness and attention.

“You’re welcome. Where are you up to today?”

“Thomas is stuck in a locked room and I need to find a way to get him out.”

“Tricky,” he said.

“Yes. I don’t know how I got him into this mess really, but it’s up to me to help him. There’s no one else,” she said with a soft laugh.

“You’ll find a way.” The door chimed and another customer entered. Abby looked at the door. It was the dark-haired man who came in once or twice a week to work on his laptop. He always sat in the opposite corner of the room to Abby on a table that never seemed to be occupied.

Lincoln straightened his apron. “Mr Big Shot’s here. I’d better go.”

“How come he always gets that table?” said Abby, who had once been refused access to it by another barista even though it was the only one free at the time. She’d had to share a table with a young man who wasn’t at all happy to have a fraught mother and her crying baby next to him. The dark-haired man had arrived a few minutes later and sat at the table with no comment from the barista.

“He reserves it. Pays for the privilege.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“You can’t, unless you’re him.” The man had moved to the counter and was staring at Abby and Lincoln with a frown on his face. “Gotta go.” Lincoln winked at Abby and then hurried to the counter. Abby watched him go.

“Good to see you, Mr Kane,” he said with a broad, though obviously fake, smile on his face.

“The usual,” said the man in a flat voice. “And a cinnamon bagel.”

“Of course. I’ll bring it over.” Lincoln looked at Abby with a sly smile, one eyebrow raised, as he turned to the coffee machine.

The man, who Abby now knew was called Kane, unwound his red scarf from around his neck and hung it on the rack. It was the only colour in his outfit. His coat, which he shrugged out of and hung beneath the scarf was dark grey and the suit it revealed was black and paired with a white shirt and dark grey tie. He looked like he worked as a funeral director. He glanced briefly at Abby as he passed, and then went to the other side of the room to his usual table. Abby watched as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down. He put his expensive leather briefcase on the table and took out his laptop and a notepad. He unfolded a pair of dark-rimmed glasses and put them on then took a silver pen from his suit pocket, clicked on the end with his thumb and started to write as his laptop booted up.

Abby forced herself to look away. She loved to people watch, but it was a distraction from what she was here to do, which was to finish this goddamned difficult chapter. She took a sip of her coffee and opened the pad, flicking through dozens of pages of her large, looping handwriting until she came to the end. She sighed. How was she going to get her lead character, Thomas, out of this room?

\---

Marcus Kane was in a bad mood when he walked into the coffee shop. He’d been in a bad mood since he woke up, since he realised there was no food in the house after his housekeeper had unexpectedly quit and so there was nothing for breakfast. He didn’t know how to work the expensive coffee machine he owned because Carla had always made him his morning coffee. His emails were full of bad news about share prices and one from his mother threatening to visit him because she still couldn’t believe he had chosen to move out to the sticks instead of living the high life in the throbbing metropolis of the Twin Cities.

He was hungry and thirsty when he opened the door and wasn’t impressed to see the barista talking to the woman with the child instead of standing behind the counter waiting to serve him. He glared at them both in what he knew was a passive-aggressive manner but he didn’t care. It worked, and the barista came over with a fake smile plastered onto his large handsome face.

“The usual,” said Kane. “And a cinnamon bagel.” He caught the smirk of the barista as he turned to take off his coat and scarf. He was making eyes at the woman in the corner. Flirting with her probably. Maybe they were dating. She was in here often enough, but her baby didn’t look more than a year old, not that Kane had much experience with children. They all looked the same to him. She was wearing a wedding ring. Where was her husband? He glanced at her as he hung up his coat. She was looking at him with naked curiosity, so he looked away quickly.

He put on his glasses and made a list of actions for the day ahead while he waited for his laptop to boot. His stomach growled and he looked towards the counter. The barista was taking his bagel out of the toaster, so it wouldn’t be long, thank God. He signed into his Company Portal and was bringing up more bad news emails when the barista arrived with his coffee and bagel. He put them on the table next to Kane’s laptop.

“Thank you,” said Kane, his mood already improving now that caffeine and carbohydrates were in his imminent future. He took a bite of the bagel and polished off the lower half in a few seconds, so hungry was he. He wiped his fingers on the napkin and fired off a quick email to his Chief Financial Officer requesting a breakdown of the impact of the drop in share price on the various aspects of the business.

He sat back in his chair so he could savour the second half of his bagel. He sipped his coffee and looked around the room. His eyes alighted on the woman with the baby in the corner, as they often did. He had developed a strange fascination with her over the three months he’d been coming to this coffee shop. She was in here most of the days he was, so he could only assume she practically lived here. He knew nothing about her. Even though Arkadia Falls was a small town, it was large enough for people to still be anonymous if they chose, which Kane did.

She looked to be in her mid-thirties, and she had long brown hair that was often tied back in a messy ponytail and brown eyes that were large and dark and curious. The child was the opposite of her, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Assuming it wasn’t adopted then Kane could only suppose the father had similar colouring. The woman didn’t seem to have a job because she was always in the coffee shop. She spent most of her time looking out of the window, playing with the child or scribbling on a legal pad but he didn’t think she was a lawyer or in any way a professional. She was too unkempt.

He’d also noticed that she nursed a single coffee for the entire time that he was here. Kane usually had two coffees during the morning and sometimes a herbal tea if the mood was upon him. Why she only had one he didn’t know. He was surprised the baristas didn’t mind her taking up a table for all that time and only spending a couple of dollars. Maybe she was dating the one that was in charge today, but Kane doubted he was the father of the baby because he was dark-skinned and where the hell had the kid got her blonde hair from?

He shook his head. He didn’t usually think much about other people unless they worked for him or were members of his immediate family, but this woman had got under his skin for some reason. She was a mystery, and he quite liked not knowing anything about her. He could find out easily, if he wanted to, but where was the fun in that?

She looked up at him, perhaps sensing that he was looking at her, and Kane held her gaze for longer than was necessary, just to see what she would do. She didn’t look away, just looked at him with that wide-eyed curiosity that sometimes made him feel naked and vulnerable, a feeling that he wasn’t generally familiar with. Then the baby cried, and she went immediately to her, lifting her out of the stroller and cradling her in her arms. Kane looked away, because it seemed like a private moment, and he didn’t want to intrude.

He returned to his computer. The CFO had emailed the statistical breakdown so Kane opened the spreadsheet and perused it with a sinking feeling in his stomach. There were going to be tough times ahead. His days as an optimistic junior salesman at Kane & Co Booksellers seemed like a long, long, long time ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane finds out more about Abby

“Thank you so much, Mrs Larson. I really appreciate this.” Abby handed the diaper bag with all Clarke’s necessities to her neighbour.

“Any time, love, you know that.” The older woman stroked Abby’s arm and smiled.

“I know. Thank you.” Abby kissed a sleepy Clarke on the head. “Be good for Mrs Larson, sweetheart. I love you.” She picked up her battered briefcase and went down the steps into the street. “I’ll be back at four,” she said as she waved goodbye.

Her heart was pounding as it always did when she had to leave Clarke with someone else. She hated doing it but teaching opportunities were so rare and she was desperate for the money. She walked to the bus stop, swinging her briefcase. She had to stop worrying. Clarke would be fine with Mrs Larson and Abby had a whole week of substitute teaching to look forward to.

\---

Kane walked into the coffee shop promptly at nine o’clock on Monday morning as usual. He glanced to the corner expecting to see the woman and her child sitting there but someone else was in her seat. He looked around the rest of the store, but she was nowhere to be seen. That was unusual. A vague feeling of disappointment washed over him as he took his seat. Thinking about her provided entertainment for him amidst all the doom and gloom of his day job. What was he going to do now to stop himself going completely mad?

He buried himself in his work, and the morning went quicker than he’d thought it would. When he finally looked up from his computer she still wasn’t there. He hoped nothing had happened to her. When the barista brought his second cup of coffee over, Kane could contain his curiosity no longer and decided he would ask a couple of questions. It wasn’t the barista she was over-friendly with, so he figured he was on safe ground.

“That woman who usually sits in the corner with her baby,” he said as the young girl set down his cup.

The girl looked up, startled. Kane never usually spoke to any of the staff other than to say please and thank you, so he supposed he’d surprised her by uttering an entire sentence.

“Yes?” she said nervously.

“Any idea where she is today?”

“No, sorry.” The girl stood pale-faced and with her hands behind her back. Kane could tell she was fidgeting with her fingers and didn’t want him to see.

“I’m not here to cause her any trouble.” Kane kept his voice low and relaxed.

“Okay.”

“She’s in here a lot that’s all, so it’s noticeable when she’s not here.”

“I think she likes to get out of her apartment,” said the girl.

“Why’s that do you think, erm, Louisa?” he said looking down at her name tag and giving her his best smile.

“I guess it’s hard being stuck in with a baby all the time.” She was warming up to him a little now that he had made himself appear less threatening.

“She’s alone then, with the baby?”

“Well, yeah, after the accident.”

“The accident?” Louisa spoke as though he should know what she was talking about, but Kane was new to the town and had no idea what she meant.

“Yeah there was an accident out on the highway. Another car ploughed into theirs. Her husband was killed outright, and she nearly died having the baby.”

“Christ!” Kane was shocked at this news. He had never anticipated this history for her in all his idle fantasising. “How long ago was this?”

Louisa shrugged. “I don’t know. A year, maybe longer. It was a bad day for the town. Her husband was a journalist on the paper and very popular.”

“I see.”

Louisa bent so that her head was closer to Kane’s. “I heard,” she said, conspiratorially, “that there’s a dispute as to who was at fault, and her husband’s estate is tied up in the courts.”

“So what does she do for money?” Kane said, matching Louisa’s whisper.

“I don’t think she has any.”

Kane sat back in his chair, restoring an appropriate distance between himself and the girl. “Thank you,” he said, dismissing Louisa with a nod.

He was oddly shaken by the woman’s story. She’d never shown any signs that such tragedy was in her background, but then what would those signs be? It was over a year ago. She wasn’t likely to go around wearing black for the rest of her life like some old Victorian or weeping and wailing in the street. She was getting on with her life, raising her child. How did she support them both, though, with no money? No wonder her clothes were outdated and well-worn and she nursed one cup of coffee all day long.

Kane felt admiration for her, even though he knew nothing else about her. She must have great spirit to rise from such heartbreak and keep going. And she’d stayed where it had all happened, not run away like he had. It made his own problems seem less significant. He sighed, then turned back to his computer. The share price had dipped lower and despite his thoughts just then about the relative significance of his problems he felt his stress levels rise as he read more and more bad news.

\---

Abby was thrilled to be back in the familiar surroundings of the High School. It had been a hard two months since her last substitute teaching appointment and that had only been for three days while the math teacher was off sick with stomach flu. This time she was covering for the English teacher’s holiday and was on more familiar territory.

She walked into the staff room, steeling herself for the looks of sympathy she still got even though it had been eighteen months since Jake died and she’d been back here a few times since then. The initial sympathy about his death and Clarke’s traumatic birth had since been replaced by concern over her financial situation. She hated it, but there was nothing she could do about it. Living in a small town meant everyone knew your business, and they were only being kind. She got tired of being an object of pity, that was all. She thought she was doing a pretty amazing job all being told, but no one except Jake’s mom had ever said that to her. Most of them still didn’t feel able to talk to her properly. And of course she’d lost her best friend over it.

She plastered a smile to her face and opened the door. “I’m back!” she said with a forced brightness. Five heads turned to look at her. Jacapo Sinclair stood and came over to her.

“It’s lovely to see you, Abby,” he said with a warm smile.

“It’s great to be back.”

“Pity it can’t be for longer,” said Diana Sydney, one of the worst culprits for giving Abby the pity looks.

“Every little helps. I can’t wait to get to my class.” Abby poured herself a coffee and sat down next to Sinclair. She sipped her drink and listened to the banter of the teachers as they swapped war stories. She’d taught full time before the accident, but there was no way she could go back to that now. There wasn’t a position for her, and she couldn’t afford full time childcare; it would cost most of her salary.

Her first class of the day had some familiar faces in it, which was a relief and made her relax, even though they could be mischievous sometimes.

“Good to have you back, Mrs Griffin,” said John Murphy with a grin.

“Murphy’s missed you, Miss,” said Bellamy Blake, running a hand through his dark curls. “He’s been pining.”

“I have not!” Murphy pushed Bellamy and the two jostled in their seats.

“Thank you, boys, that’s enough. Believe it or not, I’ve missed you too.” Abby smiled, then turned to write her name on the whiteboard. “For those who don’t know me, my name is Mrs Griffin, and I’ll be teaching you Contemporary Literature for the rest of the week. Principal Jaha told me you’re reading The Handmaid’s Tale, so who’s going to summarise it for me?”

No hands went up, so Abby picked on a girl with long dark hair she hadn’t seen before. “What’s your name?”

“Echo.”

“Thank you for volunteering, Echo.”

“I didn’t!” the girl said with a frown.

“But you were about to, I can tell. The Handmaid’s Tale please, in one hundred words or less.”

\---

Abby was exhausted but happy when she picked Clarke up that afternoon. The child seemed contented, hardly noticing when Abby walked into the room she was so focused on scrawling something indecipherable on a piece of paper.

“That’s lovely, Clarke,” said Abby as she knelt on the floor beside her.

“Mama,” said Clarke, not looking up from the paper.

“Yes, mama’s here. Did you miss me, baby?” She wanted to sweep her daughter up in her arms but she knew better than to try and disturb Clarke when she was focused on something. That way lay tears and screaming.

“She’s been an angel,” said Mrs Larson, bringing Abby a glass of lemonade.

“Oh, I’m so glad.”

“Do you want to stay for some dinner, love? I’ve got plenty. Mr Larson will be home soon.”

“Oh, no, that’s very kind but I have plans already.” Abby didn’t have any plans and barely had any food in the cupboard, but she knew Mrs Larson was only being kind and didn’t really have a lot to spare. Abby refused to take charity, and certainly not from people who were suffering the same hardships as herself.

“If you’re sure, love.”

“I am.” Abby drained her lemonade then stood. “Come on, Clarke, it’s time to go.” She picked up her daughter who started crying as predicted. Abby gave her the crayon she’d been drawing with and she quieted.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Mrs Larson as she pressed a ten-dollar bill into her hand. “Thanks again.”

Abby held Clarke on one hip and grabbed the folded-up stroller in her other hand. She struggled up the three flights of steps to her own apartment. A note was lying on the mat when she opened the door. It was from the landlord, regretfully requesting she pay last month’s rent as soon as possible.

“Goddamnit!” said Abby as she slammed the door behind her harder than she should, causing Clarke to start crying again.

\---

Kane sat at his desk in his condo, his laptop open, browsing pages of Google results. He was searching for information on the accident the barista had told him about and there were numerous pages devoted to it. It had made headline news on Kare 11 at the time and must have been in all the papers in Minneapolis but Kane hadn’t seen anything about it. Around that time he’d been fully immersed in the disastrous potential merger with King’s Books and probably hadn’t seen or read anything that wasn’t business-related.

He gorged on the information now, though. The woman from the coffee shop was called Abigail Griffin. She was thirty-four years old at the time of the accident and heavily pregnant with her first child. Her husband, Jake, was lead reporter at the Arkadian Times. According to reports it was speculated both cars involved were speeding at the time of the crash. Jake was taking his wife to hospital because she was in labour, and no one knew why the driver of the other car was speeding because he too had been killed.

Abigail had been taken to hospital with life-threatening injuries to her abdomen and spine and the paramedics held out little hope for the survival of either mother or child, but somehow she had pulled through, and gave birth to a daughter, Clarke. The accident had happened in the early hours of an April day eighteen months previously. There was a horrific picture of the mangled wreckage of the two cars and Kane couldn’t believe anyone had survived that, let alone a pregnant woman.

Most of the pictures of Abigail were of a woman with a bright smile, clearly taken before the accident. She looked young and happy. In others she had her arms around a tall blonde man with blue eyes. They looked very much in love. There was one picture taken some time after the crash, at the inquest into Jake Griffin’s death. Abigail looked thin and frail, her hair tied back loosely, her clothes too big for her tiny frame. She was leaning on the arms of an older woman and was a shadow of the smiling woman in the pictures Kane had seen earlier.

Now he thought about it, Kane could see there was something sad about her, a melancholy in the way she sat quietly in the corner of the coffee shop and stared out of the window. She seemed to drift away sometimes. He’d told himself she was just thinking, but clearly it was more than that. Now that he’d seen pictures of her before the accident, he could tell the smile she gave to the barista she liked wasn’t as bright and didn’t reach her eyes. Kane had recognised a fellow traveller, he supposed, although her journey was far more arduous than his.

He shut the laptop with a sigh. He wandered to the open patio door and stood on his balcony, looking out onto the river that gave the town its name. He was thoroughly depressed now, and spending more time than he should thinking about a woman he’d never formally met and never talked to. He didn’t need emotional entanglements in his life of any description, and even though he was never likely to get involved with Abigail Griffin she was in his mind now, and was going to be hard to shift.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His knowledge about Abigail weighs on Kane.

Abby’s week teaching at the High School went by quickly. She enjoyed it enormously, and Principal Jaha had assured her that she would be first call whenever an opportunity became available, no matter what the subject. Abby was grateful, because the man wasn’t someone who gave praise lightly, and so she knew she’d earned his commendation, and it wasn’t given out of pity for her.

The money she’d made for her week’s work wasn’t much and wouldn’t go far to pay off her debts, but it would keep the landlord at bay until her monthly check from Jake’s mother arrived the following week. That didn’t go far either, but Abby was frugal, and as long as Clarke was clothed and fed she was happy. Her only indulgence was her daily coffee, and she figured she saved more than the couple of dollars she spent by not using the power or heating in her home while she was in the shop, which was particularly important once winter set in.

The following Monday dawned bright and clear so she walked the long way from her apartment to the coffee shop, pushing Clarke along the river bank, looking up at the expensive condos that had been finished a few months earlier, and which had destroyed a prime habitat of Cottonwood trees, which Abby had played in when she was a young girl. It was annoying because the only people who could afford to live in the condos were outsiders or rich people from the Twin Cities who came on vacation twice a year and contributed nothing to the local community. Certainly, nobody she’d grown up with lived in the fancy apartments. The developers had had the cheek to call the condos Cottonwood Place, which Abby thought was deliberately provocative. Jake would have been sure to write an editorial on it, if he’d been around.

She struggled through the door of the coffee shop as usual, and as usual nobody helped her. If she’d chosen a coffee shop in the centre of the town she’d be fighting off the offers of help, because that’s where most Arkadians went, but she’d chosen one close to the university, which was frequented mostly by self-centred young adults whose lives took place behind a phone screen. It was a deliberate choice, meaning she was less likely to bump into someone she knew, and could write undisturbed, apart from when Clarke woke up.

The shop was virtually empty and her favourite table was free. She parked the stroller as usual and went up to the counter. Lincoln wasn’t serving, it was a young girl who’d only recently started working there, Louisa.

“Hi Louisa. I’ll have a flat white, please.”

“Yes, Mrs Griffin.” The girl turned to get Abby’s order. She always called her Mrs Griffin and Abby wasn’t sure why. She didn’t think she’d taught her in her previous existence.

“It’s Abby, please,” she said.

Louisa looked up from foaming the milk. “Yes, Mrs Griffin.”

Abby smiled and waited for her coffee before heading back to her table and taking out her legal pad. She hadn’t moved on much in the story since the last time she was in the coffee shop, having been too tired after working all day at the school and looking after Clarke in the evening. The child was cutting her canine teeth and was especially grumpy and hard work. She was awake this morning, blinking at the world from her stroller, sucking furiously on her pacifier. She was due her nap but lately she’d sometimes forgone her morning one. Abby had looked it up, worried that Clarke wasn’t getting enough sleep, but it was part of a normal transition to one nap a day. It was frustrating for Abby, because the times Clarke napped were her best times for writing, and she felt guilty writing while her daughter was awake and needed her attention.

The door chimed and Abby looked up. It was the dark-haired man, Kane, bang on time as usual. He glanced at Abby as he walked past and stared for longer than he usually did. What was his problem? Abby looked down at herself, making sure she didn’t have milk or spit-up all over her. She was fine. Maybe he was another one who didn’t think a woman and her baby should be seen in public. He always looked at her as though he wasn’t sure what kind of creature she was. “I’m a human being,” she felt like saying to him. “Not a specimen.” Maybe he was sizing her up for a casket, couldn’t help himself. She laughed out loud at her own joke, and the man looked at her again, frowning. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked away quickly. Idiot.

\---

Abigail was back. Kane noticed her sitting by the window as he approached the coffee shop from the street, and he experienced a moment of happiness that he decided was relief that she was okay. He looked at her as he walked past, checking her over quickly for any signs of illness or injury, something to explain her week-long absence. She seemed fine, except she gave him a very hostile look, which he couldn’t understand and didn’t feel he deserved. He approached the counter and heard her laugh, so he turned to see who she was talking to, but there was no one. She was laughing to herself and looking at him. Kane frowned, and she lifted one well-manicured eyebrow and gave him a filthy look. What the hell?

He placed his order and hurried over to his table, taking out his laptop and positioning it so he was partly hidden behind it but could see her without looking as though he was staring. She was writing and talking to her daughter at the same time. He could hear her because there was only one other person in the shop and it was deathly quiet. She was telling Clarke a story. Maybe she was writing one, and that’s what the legal pad was for. Why not use a laptop? It was much more efficient. Scratch that, she probably couldn’t afford one.

His fascination with her had taken a turn into something more complex since he’d found out about her history. Previously, it had been something to while away the boredom he felt at facing the same work problems day in and day out. Indulging in idle speculation about her had been entertaining and given him something to look forward to. Now he knew the truth he was interested to know more about her, to find out what drove her and how she’d survived such a terrible event, when he was hiding from a life and problems that were nothing in comparison. He wasn’t going to speak to her, though, because getting involved even tangentially with such tragedy would not be good for his stress levels and he was supposed to be avoiding things that would put further strain on his already damaged heart.

Kane tore his attention from Abigail and concentrated on his work. The share prices had levelled off since the previous week, and the CFO was anxious to meet with him to discuss their strategy for the coming six months. He would have to go to Minneapolis soon, there was no putting it off much longer.

He’d returned to the headquarters of Kane & Co three times since he’d moved homes three months before. He should by rights spend a lot more time in the city but so far he’d got away with attending meetings by video conference. He was in negotiations with the town council and the University in Arkadia Falls to open a branch of Kane & Co on the campus and he used this as an excuse to stay here, although in reality this was a job for a junior executive, not the owner and CEO. Who was going to gainsay him though? No one had yet dared.

He glanced across the room to Abigail and Clarke. The child was asleep and Abigail was frantically writing on her pad, her golden brown hair loose and falling over the table. She had her arm in front of the pad, as though she was guarding it from prying eyes. It made Kane smile. Louisa came over with his second coffee and Kane had an idea.

“Put another coffee for Mrs Griffin on my tab please,” he said, “but don’t let her know it’s from me.”

Louisa frowned at him. “What am I supposed to say?”

Kane rolled his eyes. The youth of today. “I don’t know, say a customer paid for it but had to go.”

Louisa looked around at the empty coffee shop, and pulled a face at Kane, but went over to the machine and he heard the huff and puff of it as the milk was steamed. He watched as she approached Abigail and nudged her to get her attention. She looked up, surprise on her face. Kane willed Louisa not to give him away. He looked down at his laptop as he saw Abigail’s head lift in readiness to survey the shop. He didn’t want her to catch him watching her, or she’d soon figure out it was from him.

He raised his eyes as much as he dared over the lid of his laptop. Abigail had accepted the coffee and was taking a delicate sip. She had a smile on her face. He should have added a muffin to the order. Damn. Next time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane has a visit from his mother. Abby's grief is never far away.

“Marcus, you really need to get another housekeeper.” Vera Kane grimaced as she opened the refrigerator. “There’s nothing in here but cheese and champagne.”

“That’s all I need, mom.” Kane shut the refrigerator door and steered his mother towards the breakfast nook.

“You can’t eat cheese and nothing else.”

“I get take-out. There’s no need to worry about my nutrition.”

“I worry about a lot more than that.”

“Like I said, there’s no need.” His mother had been here for half a day and was already driving him crazy. He’d told her not to come but she’d insisted, saying she wanted to see the north of the state in the Fall, but he knew it was an excuse to fuss over him and entice him back to Minneapolis. She was going to be disappointed.

“Would you like a coffee?” he said, adding grounds to the machine. He’d found the instructions a couple of weeks ago and finally figured out how to use it.

“I would. Black.”

“I know.”

“I don’t suppose you have those cookies I like, the ones with the chocolate?” Vera looked at him without much hope.

“No, but I can pick you some up.”

“No need. I’m going to take you to the store, get you stocked up.”

Marcus sighed. “I’m nearly forty, mom. I don’t need you to take me to the store.”

“You have nothing but cheese and champagne in your cupboards and your apartment is a mess. I’m taking you to the store and then I’m going to clean this place from top to bottom. You never used to be like this,” she said folding her arms and giving him her best disappointed look.

“I never used to be a lot of things,” Kane mumbled. Vera didn’t hear him because the coffee machine picked that moment to make a loud hissing noise, which was probably just as well.

\---

“Hey, sweetheart. How are my two favourite girls?”

Abby had the phone on speaker, and she held it close to Clarke who smiled at the sound of her grandmother’s voice and gurgled.

“I think she said we’re fine,” said Abby with a laugh.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We’re doing great.”

“Okay. And you got my check?”

“We did. Thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure. I only wish it could be more.”

“You’re more than generous.”

“I know it’s not enough.”

“It’s more than enough.” They had this conversation every time they spoke. Sandra Griffin felt guilty about the amount she sent to help Abby but she was struggling herself since Jake’s father died, stuck overseas unwilling to leave her friends which were her only security, but the cost of living was so high. Abby was grateful for anything she sent and would have refused the money outright if she didn’t know how much it comforted Sandra to feel she was doing something useful.

Abby put the phone on the counter while she chopped some vegetables for Clarke’s dinner. “I had some work a couple of weeks ago, at the High School.”

“You did? That’s great.”

“Yes, I really enjoyed it. The kids were cheeky as ever.”

Sandra’s laugh echoed through the phone. “Is Orla Murphy’s son still there?”

“John? Yes. I had him in a few classes.”

“I’m surprised he’s not in reform school.”

Abby supressed a laugh. Jake’s mom had grown up with Orla Murphy and the two had been mortal enemies for a reason that was now lost to history. John had been what was known as a menopause baby for Orla, a fact which had delighted Sandra at the time and ever since.

“He’s okay. Class clown but he has a soft heart beneath it all.”

“If you say so.” Sandra tutted.

“Mama, mama!” Abby looked down at Clarke who was banging on the table of her highchair.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

Clarke held out her hand towards Abby, fingers flexing in the air.

“Do you want a carrot stick?” Abby proffered the carrot to Clarke who took it with a toothy grin.

“She’s getting her last few teeth,” said Abby, turning her attention back to the phone.

“That must be painful, for both of you.”

“It hasn’t been too bad. She was grumpy for a while, but I think we’re over the worst of it now.”

“You’re doing such a great job, Abby.” Sandra’s voice cracked as she said those words and another piece of Abby’s heart withered and died.

She teared up and couldn’t speak, and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of two women trying to control their grief. 

“He’s missing it all,” said Abby eventually with a sob.

“I know.” Sandra cleared her throat and Abby heard liquid being decanted from a bottle. It was only midday in Germany, but she suspected it was wine and not water that Sandra was drinking. She’d been a big drinker before Jake’s accident and it was probably getting out of control now, but she wouldn’t talk about it and Abby didn’t feel she had the right to say how Sandra coped with the loss of her only son. Abby would probably be drinking too if she could afford it.

“Did you get an email from the lawyer?” she said, which wasn’t a topic she wanted to segue into, but she had to bring it up.

“Yes,” replied Sandra huffily. “That Callie has a goddamned cheek. Calling me as a witness. How am I a witness? I wasn’t there when her husband killed my son.”

“I know,” said Abby in as soothing a tone as she could manage given her own resentment at her former friend. She tried to tell herself that Callie was grieving too, that this was just her lashing out, but it was getting harder to be generous the longer this court case went on, and the more destitute Abby got with all her assets frozen because of it. “Are you going to fly over?”

“I don’t think I can afford it. The email said it could be done via video link, so I guess that’s what I’ll do. I’d love to see my grandchild, though.”

“As soon as this is over you’re going to come and visit, and we’re going to spend a lot of time together.”

“I hope so, love.” Sandra sounded resigned.

“We will. Have faith,” Abby said trying to give Sandra the hope she was struggling to feel herself.

“Okay. I’d better go. The expense...”

“Of course. We’ll speak next month. Take care, Sandra. I love you.”

“I love you both so much. Take care of your mommy for me, Clarke, won’t you.”

“She’s blowing you a kiss,” said Abby.

“Bye, love.”

“Bye.”

She switched off the phone and stood for a moment, knife in hand, staring at the counter. She took deep breaths. It would be easy to let her anger at the whole situation rise, to give in to it, but it wouldn’t do her or Clarke any good. She went to the highchair and took Clarke out of it, cuddling her and holding her tight.

“If it wasn’t for you,” she said as she kissed her blonde hair. She stopped that thought in its tracks, because she wasn’t going to give in or give up. Never.

\---

Kane pulled out a chair for his mother and eased it towards the table once she was settled. He’d decided to take her out for dinner even though his refrigerator was now fully stocked and his cupboards bulging. He would never admit it to Vera, but it was a relief not to have to worry about such things for a while. He knew he should keep on top of everything better than he did, but time got away from him, and he lacked energy by the time the evenings came around. It was an excuse, not a reason, he was aware of that, because he worked from home and it would be easy enough to run a duster over a surface and prepare a simple meal, but he struggled to summon the will to do it. Maybe it was time to find a new housekeeper.

“I didn’t know they had a branch of The Smokehouse out here,” Vera said, looking at the menu sniffily, as though she was already expecting the food to be inferior to the one in Minneapolis.

“We’re not at the end of the world,” Kane said.

“Might as well be.” Vera put the menu down and took a large sip of her wine.

“I like it,” said Kane, which was only partly true, but he wasn’t going to let his mom know that.

“What’s so fascinating about life up here then?” she said looking around at the clientele. The restaurant was half empty because it was only six thirty, but Vera had insisted they eat early so she could watch some godawful-sounding TV show later.

“Well, it’s very beautiful. I like being by the river. It’s peaceful.”

“We have a river in Minneapolis. It’s called the Mississippi. The greatest river in the world.”

“I’m aware of that, mom.” Kane perused the menu to give himself a break from his mother’s piercing gaze. “I think I’ll stick with a burger. What about you?”

“I don’t feel hungry.”

Kane looked up to see his mother’s mouth set in a thin line. She had her arms crossed over her ample chest and was not happy with him at all. “Of course you’re hungry. You’re just being contrary. Pick something.”

“I know my own mind, Marcus, unlike some people.”

“For God’s sake give it a rest, mom,” Kane hissed, a little too loudly because the people on the nearest table turned to look. He glared at them and they turned away again quickly.

“I will give it a rest when you come to your senses and start living your life again.”

The waiter appeared and asked them what they wanted. Vera kept her arms folded and her lips shut so Kane ordered for her. “Two Smokehouse burgers,” he said. “Hold the pickle on one.”

“I shan’t be eating it,” she said.

“Then you will stay hungry.” Kane could be far more stubborn than his mother and knew she would give in before he would. He just had to weather the storm of disappointment and anger that was heading his way.

They sat in a heavy silence for a while. Kane drained his glass and poured himself another.

“You drink too much,” Vera said.

“You talk too much.”

Their eyes met and Kane saw Vera’s mouth twitch in the beginnings of a smile. “I only want what’s best for you,” she said in a softer voice.

“I know.”

“Every time I see Rebecca I want to kill her,” said Vera.

“Let’s not talk about her.”

“You need to find a new woman, someone who’ll love you and appreciate you for who you are.”

“I doubt such a woman exists,” said Kane.

“You never know. You might find her here, in this godforsaken village.”

“It’s hardly a village. There are ten thousand people living here, more in term time.”

“Then it shouldn’t be hard to find a decent woman, should it?”

Kane really had no answer to that, and was delighted that the waiter chose that time to return with their burgers. Despite his mother’s earlier protestations she ate her burger with gusto, pickle and all.

\---

The following day Kane gave into his mother’s wishes and went for a walk with her along the river. He should really be working, but it was a perfect November day, the kind of cold he called crispy, where it didn’t bite into your marrow, but nipped at you enough to let you know you were alive. The leaves had turned on all the trees and were splashed orange, yellow and red against the bright blue sky. He’d never been one for nature walks in his previous life, despite their family home being on the edge of Highland Lake in Edina. He’d preferred to be in the bookstore, organising the displays, even as a teenager.

“Have you made any friends here?” said Vera, as though he was a young man starting his first college term. She’d been in a better mood since their dinner the previous night, when they’d jostled for their relative positions in their relationship and eventually come to a shaky truce. He’d made her Eggs Benedict for breakfast just to soften her up more. Anything for peace.

“Not really,” he said.

“Not really. Does that mean yes there’s someone or no there isn’t?”

“It means I haven’t had much personal time. I’ve been working a lot.” His mind drifted to the coffee shop. The most interaction he’d had with anyone lately had been with the barista, Louisa. And then of course there was Abigail, whom he didn’t know, but felt like he did, at least a little.

“I thought you came up here to relax more?”

“It is relaxing in its own way, being in a different place, different scenery. I don’t have the stress of wondering who I’m going to bump into.”

Vera stopped and took his arm. “You can’t hide forever, son.”

Kane was going to protest, say he wasn’t hiding, but they both knew he was. “I’m going back next week for a couple of days.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but he had to go soon, and saying it out loud to his mother meant he had to go through with it.

Vera’s face lit up. “Really? Oh, that will be lovely, Marcus. We can go to the opera.”

“If that’s what you want.” He took her arm as they approached his condo. “It’s only for a couple of days. I need to see Martin about the finances.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just happy you’re coming home.”

They walked arm in arm and Kane felt more peaceful now that he’d made the decision to go back to the city. He shouldn’t let these things fester as much as he did. It only made everything worse. He watched the river as he walked. There was a woman pushing a stroller on the other side, and as they became level he saw it was Abigail Griffin and her baby and a shiver ran through him. She stopped when she saw him, stared across. Kane didn’t realise he’d paused as well until his mother tugged on his arm.

“What’s the matter, Marcus?”

“Erm, nothing.” Across the river, Abigail was still looking at him and Kane could see Vera frown out of the corner of his eye. She’d followed his gaze and was looking at Abigail.

“Who’s that?” she said.

Kane didn’t want to tell her about Abigail, for what was there to say really? She’s someone I think about but I don’t even know her. It sounded pathetic to his own ears, and besides, he wasn’t ready to share the space he gave to Abigail in his thoughts with anyone else, and definitely not his mother.

“I’ve no idea,” he said, and he looked away and headed towards the gate to his condo.

\---

Abby had been enjoying a stroll with Clarke in the crisp Fall sunshine when she saw Kane from the coffee shop on the other side of the river. He was with an older woman with reddish-brown hair. His mother perhaps. She didn’t look much like him, short where he was tall, full-figured where he was slim. She could be his wife or partner she supposed, though she doubted it. A man like Kane would have some gorgeous trophy wife with beautifully styled hair and perfectly manicured fingernails. She’d seen the look of disdain he’d sometimes given her when she was looking particularly dishevelled after a night awake with Clarke. He wouldn’t be seen dead with someone like Abby.

He stopped when he saw her, stared across the river. It was strange to see him out of context, like when you see your regular server from the supermarket in a different environment. It felt ridiculously like seeing someone famous. She thought she should acknowledge him in some way. She was about to raise her hand to wave hello when she heard his mother talking.

“Who’s that?” she said.

Abby was curious to see what he’d say. A crazy homeless woman I see in the coffee shop, probably. She smiled at the thought.

Kane’s reply was clear as the November day. “I’ve no idea,” he said, and then he looked away as though she was nothing at all, like they’d never shared space or glances in the store. Okay, that wasn’t much of a relationship when she thought about it, but it warranted more than an outright denial of recognition, surely? Abby was affronted. Who did he think he was? Fuck you, casket salesman, she thought. Probably more at home with the dead than the living. She raised her middle finger to his back as he turned into Cottonwood Place condos. She wasn’t surprised to see he lived there. Not surprised at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone unexpected comes to Abby's aid

Abby walked to the coffee shop the following Thursday with her hood up and her head down. The weather was vile, a strong wind whipping the rain horizontally into her face. Clarke was happy enough beneath the plastic cover of her stroller, but Abby had no such protection. It was impossible to hold an umbrella and push Clarke, not that an umbrella would be much use in this gale. She would have stayed at home, but she’d had to go to the drugstore to get some Tylenol for Clarke who had started with a cold to go along with her teething, both of which had meant a long, sleepless night for Abby.

She was close to tears by the time she reached the coffee shop. She was later than usual and could only hope there was a seat free, once she’d negotiated the entrance of course. Someone had just entered the shop before her and she was relieved because she’d be able to push the chair in forwards for once, but the person didn’t hold the door and it slammed towards her in the wind. She just managed to drag Clarke out of its way before it hit them.

“Bastard!” she shouted at whoever had done that, but they wouldn’t be able to hear her because she was now on the outside and they were safely inside. She turned around and backed towards the door. She was preparing to put her weight against it when she heard the chime and realised it had been opened. She couldn’t see who it was or what they were doing but if they wanted to go outside, tough; they’d have to wait for her first.

She backed in and then stood straight, pushing back her hood so she could see who had helped her. He had his back to her as he shut the door and all she could see was a tall man in a well-tailored suit. His hair was dark and wavy and curls of it rested on his collar. He turned, and Abby was surprised to see it was Kane. Kane of all people had helped her! She stared up at him as she seemed to do every time she saw him and he stared back. His eyes were a deeper brown than she’d realised and seemed to bore right through her. She shivered, though not with cold. After an unseemly amount of time where they both stared but said nothing Abby remembered her manners.

“Thank you,” she said.

Kane nodded. He looked at her for a further second and then returned to his table. Abby saw her usual table was free and parked Clarke next to it while she took off her wet coat and hung it on the rack. There was no one in line, so she was served quickly and sat with her hands around her cup trying to warm up. She looked across at Kane. He had his head buried in his laptop, typing methodically. A moment later a young man with short spiky hair tried to pass him but Kane held out his arm and stopped the man. He said something to him, and the man looked across at Abby. What was that about? She gave Clarke a carrot stick and took out her legal pad and pen. She was about to start writing when someone coughed next to her and she looked up. It was the young man Kane had been speaking to.

“Can I help you?” said Abby.

“No. Erm. I just wanted to apologise. Erm, I let the door shut on you before. I didn’t think, I’m sorry.” He looked down and shuffled his feet.

Abby was stunned. This was completely unexpected. She didn’t know what to think for a moment and then she found her voice. “Well, thank you for apologising. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well sorry again.” The young man went to the counter to buy a pastry and then returned to his group of friends in the far corner of the room.

Abby looked at Kane. He had his head buried in his laptop again. She could only see the top of his hair above the screen. Had he told the boy to apologise to her? What an amazing thing to do! It seemed so out of character, though, for the man she’d taken him to be, a man who had denied knowing her a few days ago. Maybe he knew she’d heard him, and this was his way of apologising himself. She should say something, but he wasn’t looking at her, so he either didn’t expect a response, or he had moved on and didn’t care enough to hear her thoughts. Before today she would have said the latter, but now she wasn’t so sure.

\---

Kane was painfully aware of Abigail’s eyes on him after he’d sent the boy over to apologise to her. He kept his own eyes fixed on his laptop and pretended to type but all he was doing was inputting a string of nonsense numbers into his spreadsheet. He hadn’t been too surprised not to see her when he’d arrived; the weather was foul and he’d imagined her tucked up in her apartment with the baby not wanting to venture out. She was indomitable, clearly, because she’d turned up anyway. Mere weather would not get in the way of Abigail Griffin.

He’d seen her approach, or rather he’d recognised the stroller, because Abigail herself was covered up against the wind and rain. The stupid kid had shut the door in her face and Kane had jumped up to open it for her. He’d thought for a long moment that she wasn’t going to say anything, and then she’d looked at him quizzically and half-smiled, as though she wasn’t sure what to make of him or was amused at his clumsy attempt at chivalry. Her voice was low and hard-edged when she thanked him, that same hint of amusement lacing its smoky tones. He’d been tongue-tied when she was looming large in front of him, struck dumb by his knowledge of her history, of the weight she carried around. He was insignificant before her, and therefore there was nothing to say. He’d simply nodded and scurried back to his chair to hide. She probably thought him a complete ass, and she’d be right.

An email popped up on his screen from his mother, confirming their visit to the opera the following night. Kane sighed. He was not relishing a three-hour drive to Minneapolis and then two days at the office, but it had to be done. Maybe this time he’d feel more comfortable and stay longer. He spent the rest of his morning re-reading all the information Martin his CFO had sent him so he’d be prepared for their meeting. When it was time to leave he caught Louisa the barista as she passed him.

“Give Mrs Griffin another coffee like before,” he said. “Tell her you made it by mistake and don’t want it to go to waste.” He gave the girl more money than the coffee cost to ensure her silence. “Wait until I’ve gone.”

Louisa looked at him as though he was the strangest person she’d ever met, which he probably was, but nodded and pocketed the money. Kane packed up his things. He was tempted to stay longer, to see what Abigail did with her afternoons, how long she lingered in the coffee shop, but she was taking up enough of his time and thoughts as it was, and he didn’t want to appear creepy to her. No, Monday and Thursday mornings were his times in the coffee shop. That was his routine and he was sticking to it. He could vary it, of course, live life dangerously, but the structure he’d given his new life was the only thing keeping him sane.

He went to the coat rack, shrugged on his winter coat, wrapped his scarf around his neck and pulled on his black ascot cap. He looked at Abigail as he straightened it. She was feeding Clarke some mushy concoction and she looked up when she sensed his gaze. He should say something to her, but what? Nothing came to mind, so he settled for what he hoped was a friendly nod of acknowledgement, then hurried out of the door into the driving wind and rain.

\---

What a strange man, thought Abby as she watched Kane head across the road towards the river. She knew he had the power of speech because she’d heard him with his mother/whatever and the baristas, but he didn’t appear to think her worthy of a polite word, even though he’d been so generous earlier. Abby couldn’t make him out. Was he shy? She couldn’t imagine it. Lincoln had called him a big shot and he was clearly expensively dressed and in a senior position at whatever company or funeral home he worked at. A man like that couldn’t be shy.

She couldn’t imagine him being unable to talk to women either. He was handsome and held himself so confidently. He probably had women falling all over him, despite his taciturn manner. A lot of women liked their men sullen and brooding. Abby preferred people with a lot of joy in their hearts, or at least she used to. The truth was these days people who were too happy annoyed her, because they reminded her of how she used to be.

She finished feeding Clarke and then Louisa arrived at her table. What now? Usually no one disturbed her or talked to her and now she’d had two people in one morning. Louisa set a coffee down next to Abby’s notepad.

“I didn’t order another coffee.” said Abby.

“I made it by mistake. I didn’t want it to go to waste so I figured you’d like it.”

She’d made a mistake again? Abby frowned. “Don’t you want it?”

Louisa looked stricken at Abby’s question, as though she hadn’t been anticipating a conversation about the coffee. “Erm, I don’t really like a flat white.”

“Okay. Well, thank you. It’s very kind of you.”

Louisa scurried away and Abby pulled the coffee towards her. This was the second time she’d been gifted a free drink in as many weeks. She’d been coming to this coffee shop for eight months now and this had never happened before. It was very odd, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Mommy’s very lucky today,” she said to Clarke as she wiped food from her daughter’s chin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane returns to Minneapolis, and Abby has a meeting with her lawyer

Kane’s stress levels rose exponentially the further south he drove. By the time he reached the outskirts of Minneapolis a nervous dread had settled over him and his hands were growing sweaty. You’re being ridiculous, he told himself, but it didn’t change his body’s reaction to his mind’s concerns. Things got harder the longer you avoided dealing with them. He knew this, and yet still he hid away, physically and emotionally, and let it all fester.

He approached Minneapolis from the north on I94 and was all the way to McKinley before the towers of the city started to loom on the horizon. Something tugged on his heart at the sight of them, familiarity perhaps. He’d always thought of it as a blue city, caused by the reflections in the glass buildings of the big open sky, and it was shining today in the warm light. What a difference to the gale that was blowing up in Arkadia Falls. There should be snow by now, but it was late this year. Kane was glad. It had been bad enough setting off in driving rain. Snow would be ten times worse.

He turned off the Interstate and threaded his way through the maze of streets to the Warehouse District. He ignored the turn for the offices of Kane & Co and headed across the river to Boom Island Park. He pulled up in the car lot and sat in his car for a moment, looking across the mighty Mississippi to the city. This was his home, where he’d been born and raised; the family’s flagship bookstore his playground, the surrounding city streets his wonderland. Now it was tainted, stained with his humiliation. The love he felt for it had been twisted into something unrecognisable, something that hurt him.

Kane got out of his car and wandered down to the riverside. How different it was to the one in Arkadia Falls. The Arkadia was narrow and twisting, filled with rocks and trees growing out of its banks. You couldn’t see all of it in one go, had to curve round bends and up and down rises to find its secrets. The Mississippi in contrast was wide and open, here at least. It gave up its secrets long ago. He used to like that, its straightforwardness. You knew where you were with it, could see where you were going, where you had been. The Arkadia was still a mystery to him, like most of the town. Of course the Arkadia flowed into the Mississippi eventually, so they were connected. If he jumped into the Arkadia his body would eventually float past where he was standing. That was a morbid thought, and he shook it away.

He breathed in the cold air and then returned to his car, making his way to North 2nd Street and their beautiful old colonial warehouse with its green arched windows and decorated brickwork. Now this WAS coming home, and somehow he had to make it feel like that again, otherwise he was no longer the right man to be heading up the company, not that there was anyone else he trusted enough to take over. He parked the car and opened the door. Raven was behind the reception desk and she gave him a warm smile when he approached.

“Good afternoon, Mr Kane. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, Raven, thank you,” he said, because who ever told the truth about how they were feeling? “How are you?”

“I’m really great, and it’s lovely to see you.”

“How’s your leg?” Raven had injured her leg in a skiing accident, and it had been touch and go as to whether she would lose it.

“Still being a bitch, but I’m living with it.”

“Onwards and upwards,” Kane said, which was advice he always gave but couldn’t manage to follow himself. “Is Martin in?”

“He’s expecting you.”

“Thank you.”

Kane stepped into the elevator and closed the wrought iron gate before pressing the button to go up to the fourth floor. He was as prepared as he would ever be for this meeting.

\---

Abby sat in her lawyer’s office glaring at the man sitting across the desk, even though he was only the messenger and none of this was his fault.

“What do you mean there’s a further delay? Sandra has received a summons to appear in court. I thought it was all going ahead!”

Mr Russell cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Abby. Her lawyers need more time to gather further evidence. The judge has granted their request.”

Abby let out a long, frustrated sigh. “What further evidence can there be to collect? Her husband drove into OUR car not the other way around. That’s all there is to it.”

“I know. I know.” Russell held up his hands, shook his head. “I believe these delays are tactical, but I can’t for the life of me think what she gets out of it. I’d have thought she’d want it resolved quickly so you can both get on with your lives.”

“She wants to wear me down so I’ll give in, that’s what’s happening.” Abby bounced Clarke angrily on her knee.

“It might be something to consider.” Russell looked at her, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated her answer.

“What?” Abby couldn’t believe what he was saying. “No way.”

“It’s been over a year, Abby. You have no money. How long can you go on like this?”

“As long as it takes.” Clarke started to cry because Abby’s voice was loud, and she was holding her too tightly. She caressed her hair, kissed the top of her head. “None of this was Jake’s fault,” she said in a quieter voice.

“And that’s what we’re going to argue, if we ever get the chance. I just want to make sure you’re one hundred percent behind this, because it could be months yet before we get a resolution.”

“I’m not standing by while Jake is blamed for something he didn’t do. He doesn’t have a voice, so I must speak for him.” Abby let out a sob and Russell got up from his desk and came towards her. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“I will do everything in my power to hurry it along.”

“Thank you.” Abby sniffed and then stood up with Clarke in her arms. “I appreciate all your help.”

“You need a break, Abby. Is there anywhere you can go; anyone you can spend some time with?”

Abby pulled Clarke’s jacket on, fastened it. “Clarke and I are fine but thank you for your concern.” She kissed Russell on the cheek and then left. If he wasn’t helping her because of his long-standing friendship with Jake, then they wouldn’t have got this far. Maybe it would have been simpler to give in at the start. It would be over now one way or another, but Abby couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear injustice and that’s what it would have been. Yes, they were speeding a little, but they were on the main road doing everything else right. HE had swerved at them! She should know because she replayed it often enough in her nightmares.

\---

Kane’s meeting with Martin was depressing but not as bad as he’d feared. They would have to do some restructuring to weather this financial storm and he had a few ideas on how they could do it without losing too many staff.

It was still early when he left the office. Too early to hang around his hotel room waiting to get ready for the opera, and he didn’t want to see any more of his mother than he had to. He found himself driving south out of the city towards St. Paul. There was an inevitability about where he was heading. He knew it deep in his gut just like he knew it was a mistake but still he kept driving. He turned off the interstate onto Snelling and from there it was only a few blocks to Summit Avenue. Don’t do it, don’t do it he told himself but either the stubborn part of his nature or some deep-seated need to torture himself prevented him from turning around.

The grassy centre island that so defined the street was littered with fallen leaves. The maple trees were bright red, their branches waving cheerily at him as he passed. His heart raced as he approached the most familiar landmarks. The Mount Zion temple with its imposing brick walls and glass front, Kowalski’s market across the road on Grand Avenue where he’d spent Sunday mornings browsing and plotting what they’d have for dinner.

He slowed as he approached his target. He couldn’t see much because of the trees, so he pulled up at the side of the road and eased forward until the house came into view on the other side of the wide avenue. His breath caught in his throat. It hadn’t changed, of course it hadn’t changed, it had only been four months. The same slate-grey walls partially hidden behind the huge cherry tree in the front yard, the floor-to-ceiling windows that used to make him feel so exposed although he knew no one outside could see in; they were too far back from the sidewalk.

He’d never wanted to live in St. Paul, preferring the bustle of the larger of the twin cities, but Rebecca had insisted, said it was the trendier place to live, not that Kane cared about trends, and a great place to raise a family. He’d fallen in love with the house and the history of the avenue. F. Scott Fitzgerald had lived on Summit and it seemed a fitting place for two booksellers to make their first home. Now he wondered if it had been a ploy bringing him out here, isolating him from his friends and family, keeping him under her control. Probably.

An estate agent’s board stuck into his front lawn swayed in the breeze. His gut twisted as he looked at his past and the future that would never be. He was right to have left. Staying here with all these memories would have been a bad idea. He put the car into drive and moved off, turning onto Grand Avenue to reach the I94 rather than head back past his former home.

\---

“Don’t you look handsome, Marcus.” Vera appraised her son on the steps of the concert hall.

“Thank you. You look lovely yourself.” Kane leaned towards his mother and kissed her on both cheeks. He was glad he’d made the effort to dress in his tuxedo. He liked how he looked in the form-fitting jacket and crisp white shirt. The bow tie was another matter, but his mother liked to dress up for the opera, and a tie was too workaday.

He was feeling confident as he escorted his mother to their box, took his seat next to her. A couple of his old acquaintances nodded at him but their privacy in the box ensured he didn’t have to engage anyone in conversation. The opera was Madame Butterfly by Puccini which contained one of his favourite arias, and he started to relax as the evening went on.

At the interval Vera wanted a glass of champagne but was too tired after a long day on her feet to go and get it or so she said, so Kane went out into the lobby and headed to the bar. He was thinking about what he’d just seen and humming the aria, so he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. It was a shock, then, to hear a familiar voice.

“Marcus!”

He looked up to see Rebecca standing before him. His name was a sultry whisper on her lips, and it shot like an arrow straight to his veins and his heart. He couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. Her deep blue eyes danced with amusement. Was it entertaining to her, the condition she’d left him in?

When he didn’t reply she moved closer. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you were up north somewhere.”

Kane wasn’t happy that she knew anything about where he was or what he was doing. He forced himself to respond, not wanting her to see the effect she was having on him any more than she already had.

“I’m back and forth, with business.”

Rebecca twisted an elegant finger through a curl of her long, black hair. He’d used to love it when she did that, when she looked at him coquettishly, teasing him, making him feel like he was everything she desired. Now it made him feel sick. “Everyone was saying you’d run away forever.”

“Like I said, I’m up there on business.” He tried to get past her, but she blocked his way.

“There really was no reason to disappear the way you did.” She reached towards him, took hold of his bow tie, adjusting it. The scent of her perfume assaulted him, the one she always wore, Gucci Bloom, that made her smell like an English country garden. Another of her affectations, like her faux British accent and her fake everything. He’d thought she was cultured, sophisticated. What an idiot he’d been.

Kane raised his hand to brush hers away from him. “I have to get back to my mother.” He turned to retrace his steps, desperate to get away from her but trying to be as cool as he could.

“Give her my love,” Rebecca said in her girlish tones.

Kane hurried away, his heart pounding, a dull ache in his stomach. When he entered the box, Vera looked at him with a frown.

“Where’s my drink?”

“I have to go,” said Kane, and he picked up his black overcoat, wrapped his white scarf around his neck.

“What? No, Marcus. Why?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

He walked as quickly as he could through the halls of the building, got in his car and drove towards I94. He didn’t stop to go back to his hotel – they could send his things along later. He wanted to put as many miles as he could between himself and his old, pathetic, painful life.

\---

Abby headed towards the doctor’s office, distracted after her meeting with Russell. She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said about giving up. She knew he was only trying to do what was best for her, but he should know by now. She would fight to the bitter end.

The investigation into the crash had been inconclusive, and Jake’s insurance company had already been dragging its feet when Abby’s best friend and wife of the other driver, Callie Cartwig, had taken out a private prosecution, blaming Jake for the accident. Abby had thought it a mistake at first; there was no way the woman she’d known all her life would do that, but it was true. Callie had argued that Abby was a flight risk because her mother-in-law lived in Germany, and all her assets were frozen. She’d been living hand to mouth ever since.

The rain had let up at last and Abby reached down to take the cover off Clarke’s stroller. When she straightened up she was startled to see a small, dark-haired woman standing in front of her. It was Callie. Abby felt as though just thinking about her had brought her into being. Callie looked as pleased to see Abby as Abby was to see her. Neither woman spoke.

Abby pondered whether she should just walk past, as though she hadn’t seen Callie, but that was ridiculous and childish. She wasn’t hiding from this fight, and that included the woman who’d started it.

“Hello, Callie,” she said in a tight voice.

“Abby.”

“What are you doing in Arkadia Falls?” Callie had moved a year ago, not that she’d told Abby. Abby had heard about it from her remaining friends, the ones who hadn’t sided with Callie.

“That’s none of your business.” Callie gave Abby a hard stare.

Abby should feel angry, because she believed she was the one who had been treated badly, and didn’t deserve this attitude, but she was tired, so tired of all of it. “I wasn’t prying; I was just asking out of interest.”

“So you can run back to your lawyer with information.”

Abby drew a sharp breath. “I’m not the one twisting someone else’s words to suit their aims!”

“I twisted nothing. You know what you said.”

Abby’s heart constricted; her chest grew tight. “And you know what I meant.”

“You meant what you said. I have it recorded, remember.”

“I was being kind! You know I was.” Abby’s voice was rising in pitch as her anger grew. She tried to force herself to keep calm by taking long, slow breaths.

“It’s my word against, well, yours, literally.” Callie gave her a smug grin, but there was no joy in it. Her dark eyes were dull, lifeless.

Abby knew she had to be careful what she said. Callie had betrayed her once and would do so again. She might be recording this conversation now.

“We used to be so close,” she said, sadly. “I trusted you.”

“I used to have a husband,” Callie hissed.

“So did I!”

“At least you have her,” said Callie, nodding at Clarke. “I have no one because of your husband.”

Abby wanted to shout and scream ‘it was an accident!’ at Callie, but she wasn’t allowed to say things like that. Russell would kill her, and it might lead to the collapse of her countersuit. “It didn’t have to be like this,” she said quietly.

“Yes it did,” replied Callie, and then she pushed past Abby and disappeared around the corner.

Abby walked into the doctor’s surgery in tears, and Petra the receptionist, who she’d known most of her life, led her into a private room and let her cry her pain out on her shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

Winter pushed Fall out of the way the day the snow started to fall and barely stopped. Thanksgiving approached and the days grew short. Fresh snow crunched under Kane’s feet as he trudged to the coffee shop. The wind whipped icy snow into his face, and not for the first time he wondered why his ancestors hadn’t immigrated to somewhere warm like California rather than this land of extremes where he sweltered in the summer and froze in the winter. It reminded them of home in Scandinavia he supposed.

The windows of the coffee shop were steamed up so it was a surprise when he opened the door to find the place packed with people. The warm air of forty or so bodies hit him, together with the scent of coffee and spices. He wasn’t overjoyed to see so many people, but it was a welcome respite from the silence of his apartment and the bitter cold weather. He couldn’t hang up his coat because the rack was sagging under the weight of wet jackets and scarves, so he made his way directly to his table. Someone was sitting there with their back to him, long golden-brown hair loosely curled and damp at the tips. He’d recognise that hair anywhere. His pulse quickened. What was she doing sitting at his table?

As he approached the table, one of the baristas hurried over to him.

“I’m sorry, Mr Kane, but she refuses to move.”

Kane rounded the table so he was standing in front of Abigail. He pulled on the fingers of his gloves to ease them off while he contemplated her. She had Clarke on her knee and was staring at him defiantly.

“It’s quite alright,” said Kane, and he laid his gloves on the table before unbuttoning his coat and hanging it over the back of his chair with his scarf.

“There was nowhere else to sit,” said Abigail, who was watching him as he set down his briefcase. Her daughter was staring too with the same curious look. Kane had to supress a smile. “I’m not moving,” Abigail said with a challenging raise of her eyebrow.

“I would not dream of asking you to.”

“Good.”

Kane stood for a moment then he held out his hand to her. “Marcus Kane.”

Abigail looked surprised at the gesture, then she reached out to take his hand. Her grip was firm, her small hand warm and soft. “Abby Griffin.”

“Abby?” said Kane, surprised. So she didn’t go by Abigail. He was taken aback, and for a moment he felt like he didn’t know her at all, which of course he didn’t.

Abby frowned and Kane realised his response was confusing. “And who’s this?” he said, looking at Clarke, hoping to distract Abby from his mistake.

“This is Clarke.” She smiled down at her daughter and when she looked up at Kane her eyes were bright momentarily and then they dulled again. “She’s eighteen months old.”

Kane nodded and took his seat. He would normally pull out his laptop and start working but it felt wrong to do that with Abby sitting there. Would she think it rude of him? Yes, because it was. Although she might not want conversation. She might want to work herself. What to do? He was saved from the agony of his indecision by the barista appearing ready to take his order.

“I’ll have my usual and a cruller.” He looked at Abby who didn’t have a drink in front of her. “And whatever Ms Griffin is having.”

Abby stiffened. “Oh, there’s no need. I can order for myself.”

“As you are a guest at my table it seems only proper I should buy you a drink. What would you like?”

From the slight narrowing of her eyes he thought she wasn’t happy about being called his guest, but she was gracious enough not to give voice to her thoughts. “A flat white. Thank you.”

“A flat white and make that two crullers and something for the child.” Kane said to the barista.

“We have some veggie straws,” the young man said.

Kane had no idea what those were so he looked at Abby who nodded.

“Yes, thank you.”

They sat in silence. Kane didn’t know what to say to her now she was finally in front of him. He couldn’t stare and contemplate her like he usually did because that would definitely be offensive when they were this close. Abby bounced Clarke gently on her knee. Kane looked around the shop.

“It’s busy today,” he said.

“There’s a university thing on.”

“Oh.”

Kane drummed his fingers lightly on the table. There was no topic of conversation he could think of that wouldn’t lead to awkward questions about who she was or who he was, so he stayed silent.

“You can work, you know. Don’t let me stop you.” Abby was looking at him amused and Kane gave a half smile.

“Yes, yes. I was about to.” He pulled his laptop from his bag and opened it. “Aren’t you working today?”

Abby gestured to Clarke on her knee. “It’s a bit difficult like this.”

“Oh. Where’s her stroller?”

“By the door. There was no room for it here.”

“I’m sure they have a suitable chair available.”

“They don’t. I asked.”

The barista returned with their drinks and pastries and Kane caught his arm. “We need a chair for the child.”

“There are none available, Mr Kane.”

“I’m sure there are somewhere. Find one.”

The young man backed away and Kane booted up his laptop. Abby was frowning at him again. What had he done wrong now?

“Her name’s Clarke,” she said.

“Yes, you said.”

“You keep calling her the child.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’m erm. I’m not used to children, generally speaking.”

“They’re really just small humans,” said Abby in that sardonic tone that told him exactly what she thought of him.

“Yes,” said Kane, embarrassed. “I’m aware of that.”

The barista returned with a highchair stamped with the name of the restaurant along the street, which he placed between Kane and Abby. Kane was impressed with his ingenuity and folded a ten-dollar bill into his hand. “Thank you,” he said.

Abby didn’t see him do that thankfully because he suspected she wouldn’t like it. She was busy fastening Clarke into the seat.

“That was very kind of you,” she said as she put her bag on the table and took out her legal pad.

“Not at all,” replied Kane.

Abby flipped the pages of the pad until she found her place. Kane could see her large, loose handwriting with big looping letters that filled the space between the lines. His own handwriting was small and neat and leant so far to the right it was practically horizontal at times. Abby fed Clarke a veggie straw and then started writing, her head down, arm across the top of the page as usual. Kane opened the report he’d started into the streamlining of Kane & Co. Silence descended between him and Abby, but it was comfortable, and he relaxed into his work.

\---

Abby cast occasional glances at her unexpected table companion when she paused in her writing to check on Clarke who had fallen asleep with a veggie straw clutched in her tiny hand. He had more character in his face close up than she’d thought from a distance, which made him more handsome to her mind. His eyes were such a dark brown the pupils were barely definable. There were bags under them, dark shadows of puffy flesh that made him look weary. Tell-tale signs of the sleep-deprived; Abby knew them well. His nose was long and veered slightly to the left as it marched down his face. He held it proudly in the air and looked down it when he was contemplating her. His lips were thin and pursed and she wondered if a full smile had ever graced them. He seemed only to manage a kind of smirking half-smile that together with the nose gave him an air of condescension. And yet he had been so kind to her, a complete stranger.

He shifted in his seat and she looked down at her pad in case he looked up and caught her studying him. When she next risked a glance he was still bent over the laptop, fingers clicking away on the keys. There must be a lot of paperwork involved in being a funeral director. She was curious to find out what he really did for a living, what kind of job allowed him to spend two mornings a week in the coffee shop dressed in his finest suit, and why only two mornings? Why not three or four or all week like she did? Perhaps he didn’t work at all, and the suit was some elaborate ruse to fool his wife into thinking he still had a job, and instead he came to various coffee shops around the town to pretend he was gainfully employed. She checked out his hand when he picked up his coffee to take a sip. No wedding ring, not that it meant anything these days. Plenty of married men didn’t have them.

A terrible smell wafted into Abby’s nose, and Kane must have smelt it too because he looked up and wrinkled his nose, causing a deep furrow to form between his eyebrows. He must frown a lot to cause one that deep. A curl from his carefully coiffed hair fell into his eyes and he tried to smooth it back into place.

“I think that’s Clarke,” Abby said by way of explanation.

“I hope it’s her,” he said, and Abby wondered if he was making a joke. It was hard to tell as the curve of his lips was so small it could easily be missed by the less observant.

“I’d better go and change her.”

Kane nodded and Abby picked Clarke out of the highchair, the smell becoming overpowering as she gathered her into her arms.

“Rather you than me,” Kane said as she headed towards the restroom, and Abby definitely detected a hint of amusement in his voice.

When she returned she kept Clarke in her arms as she was still sleepy and Abby was hopeful she might get another half hour’s writing time before she had to give her more attention. She balanced her in the crook of her arm and picked up her pen. It was awkward, but she had been in full flow before the interruption and she wanted to get back to it as quickly as possible. She managed another five pages before Clarke woke up and demanded food. Abby took a pot of hummus and some veggie sticks out of her bag and let Clarke dip into it.

Across the table Kane closed the lid of his laptop. “Would you like another coffee? I’m getting one.”

“Oh, no, thank you. One’s my limit.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m having one anyway.”

“Thank you, but I’m fine.” She spoke firmly but not harshly, and he nodded and went over to the counter. When he returned, he sat down but didn’t open his laptop. He blew on his coffee and looked at her.

“You’re a writer,” he said, gesturing to the legal pad.

Abby was pleased he’d characterised her as such, and not mother or crazy homeless woman. It showed a level of thought and carefulness that she hadn’t credited him with until now. “I’m a teacher by profession, but since the baby... I’m taking the opportunity to finish my novel.”

She waited for him to ask her what her novel was about as people always did, but he didn’t, he merely nodded as though it was the most natural thing for her to do with her time.

“What do you do?” she said, taking advantage of the opening he’d created in the conversation. If he said funeral director she didn’t know if she would be able to keep a straight face.

“I’m a bookseller,” he said, which was the last thing she’d expected.

“Here in Arkadia Falls?”

“Based in Minneapolis, but I’m trying to open a branch here at the University.”

“Like Barnes and Noble or something?” she said, thinking he must be an executive at one of the big chain stores.

“Kane and Co. It’s my family business.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard of it. Is that why you’re up here then?” She was warming up to the conversation and didn’t consider the personal nature of her question until she saw Kane’s face drop.

“One of the reasons,” he said quietly.

Abby scooped some hummus onto Clarke’s carrot stick while she thought of a different line of conversation as he clearly didn’t want to go down a personal route and nor did she. “You must read a lot of books then in your profession?”

Kane scratched his jaw. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” He sighed. “I seem to spend most of my time with spreadsheets these days.”

“I just finished a great book if you’re up for a recommendation. It’s by a local author.”

Kane looked surprised, and he rolled his bottom lip beneath his teeth while he thought. “Yes. Why not.”

Abby rummaged in her bag and pulled out the book. “It’s from the library, so you’ll have to give it back when you’re finished.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he said, examining the blurb on the back of the book.

“It’s kind of the library for letting us have all the books we could ever want for free.”

Kane gave her that half smile and Abby realised what she’d said.

“Not that I wouldn’t pay for books or go to a bookstore. I love bookstores,” she said, her words coming out rushed.

“Libraries are a wonderful resource,” said Kane. He drained his coffee then put his laptop and notebook into his bag together with the book. “I must go.” He put on his coat and gloves, wrapped his red scarf around his neck. “You may use this table any time yours is occupied,” he said, and then he left.

Abby turned Clarke so she was facing her. “Mr Kane is more interesting than we thought,” she said, pulling faces until her daughter was laughing and trying to detach Abby’s nose from her face with chubby fingers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a book reading in the coffee shop

Kane trudged to the coffee shop through the snow. The wind had dropped over the weekend and it was a perfect day with blue skies and no cloud. Nevertheless, he’d been tempted to stay in his apartment where it was warm and cosy. He’d finished the book Abby had given him, though, and he wanted to return it before she had to pay any library fines.

He could see she was in her usual spot as he approached the shop and part of him was disappointed. He’d enjoyed the time he’d spent with her the previous week, and had half been hoping the coffee shop would be full again, but clearly it wasn’t. He pushed open the door and hung his coat on the rack before he headed towards her table. She was playing with Clarke, drawing shapes on a page of her notepad which the girl was dragging a crayon across.

“Morning,” he said, and Abby looked up. She smiled when she saw it was him, and it warmed Kane’s heart.

“Hi.”

“I read the book you gave me,” Kane said, fishing it out of his bag and handing it to her.

“What did you think?”

“It’s very evocative of the area.”

“Isn’t it? The descriptions are lovely.”

“Yes. I must go and see some of the places she talks about.”

“Oh, you must. The north of the state is much more beautiful than Minneapolis.” She gave him a sly smile.

“It has its attractions,” said Kane, his voice even but his pulse quickening as he said those words. “Thank you for the recommendation.”

He headed to the counter before she had a chance to say anything in reply. The barista was the one she liked, Lincoln his name tag said, and he gave Kane what looked remarkably like a glare as he placed his order. Kane gave him a cool stare in return and retreated to his table with his coffee and a blueberry muffin.

Martin his CFO had approved Kane’s plan for streamlining the business and Kane opened the final report to check it one last time for errors. There would be some casualties, which he felt bad about, but it was either that or the whole business failing, and it was better to sacrifice a few people for the greater good. He’d give them excellent references, help them find another job. It would all work out fine.

He took a break to finish his muffin and glanced over at Abby. Lincoln was standing at her table and she was laughing at some story he was telling that required a lot of gesturing and face pulling. Kane could hear her laugh, low and throaty. Clarke was bouncing on her knee with the force of her amusement. Kane felt a pang of jealousy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed or made someone else laugh, truly laugh with sheer pleasure and delight. It probably wasn’t that long, but it felt like another lifetime ago.

He got up to leave earlier than usual; he had a conference call scheduled with the Board and had to get back for it. He settled his account at the counter and was passing Abby’s table when she called out to him.

“Marcus.”

He looked at her, startled to hear his name on her lips. “Yes?” he said.

“That book I loaned you. The author is doing a reading here, you know.”

He stopped at her table, rested his briefcase on the surface. “Is she?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“This Thursday.”

“On Thanksgiving?”

“Guess she’s not much of a patriot.” Abby smiled warmly.

“Are you going?” Kane said, wondering if this was why she’d brought it up, that she wanted some company.

“I doubt it, unless I can find a sitter. I just thought you might be interested.”

“Thank you,” he said, giving her a curt nod of acknowledgement.

“You’re welcome.”

Kane looked at her a moment longer and then he left the shop to walk the short distance to his condo. It was kind of her to consider his interests, but he couldn’t help wondering why she thought he would be free on Thanksgiving. Usually it was a day for families, but she had assumed he would be interested. Maybe she thought he was here temporarily while he worked on the new store and had left his family behind. Yes, that was probably it, unless he gave off an air of loneliness. God, he hoped not.

\---

“This is so kind of you, Mrs Larson. I can’t thank you enough.” Abby leaned in and kissed Clarke who was fast asleep in her cot. She straightened up and gave Mrs Larson a peck on the cheek as well.

“Don’t be silly, love. You deserve some time to yourself.”

“I know, but its Thanksgiving. I feel bad dragging you away from your family.”

“I told you it’s only me and Bill. The boys aren’t coming up until tomorrow. A little break before all the chaos is a godsend. I shall enjoy the peace and quiet.”

The two women moved into Abby’s small living room. “You know where everything is. She shouldn’t wake up but if she does and won’t go back to sleep there’s some formula in her sippy cup. Don’t give her a lot.”

“I won’t, love, don’t worry. I’ve brought up three strong boys you know.”

“I know. Sorry. It’s just, I don’t leave her at night often.”

“She’ll be fine with me.”

“The phone number for the coffee shop is on the pad near the phone. If there are any problems ring. They know who I am.” Abby pulled on her coat, slung her bag over her shoulder. She took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.”

“Have fun.”

“I’ll try. I won’t be late.”

The coffee shop was full when Abby arrived, standing room only, so she stood next to the window where she could lean against the wall for support. Her spine didn’t take too kindly to long periods of standing since the accident. She scanned the shop to see if Marcus Kane had come to the reading but there was no sign of him. Two strangers were sitting at his usual table and a handbag was in front of the remaining empty seat. She’d really thought he would enjoy a night like this, books being his business, but maybe he was too corporate now, obsessed only with spreadsheets like he’d said.

There was a different atmosphere in the shop from the daytime. Instead of the silence and quiet chatter there was a hubbub of noise and laughter. Abby stood quietly observing it all, waiting for the reading to begin. To her surprise Kane appeared from the direction of the restrooms and headed for his table. She watched as he took his seat and a woman opposite him pulled her handbag away. She saw him mouth a thank you to her. Did he know her? Or was she saving his seat? He didn’t speak any further with either of the people opposite him so Abby assumed it was the latter.

She should say hello to him, but it was getting crowded and she didn’t want to lose her place against the wall otherwise she’d never get through the night. For the same reason she resigned herself to going through the entire night without a drink. The baristas were busy serving a long line of people and there was no chance of attracting anyone’s attention to bring her a coffee or a lemonade. She should have left earlier, but Clarke had been snuffling with the remains of her cold and she had wanted to get her to sleep so Mrs Larson wouldn’t have to.

Kane was watching the door, raising his head every time it chimed and then turning away with a disappointed look. On one of those occasions he turned and looked in Abby’s direction. He seemed surprised to see her; she saw his intake of breath, and then he smiled, a full smile that turned up both corners of his mouth. It transformed him for that moment, bringing light to his dark eyes, creases to their edges. He said something to the woman across from him and then got up and made his way over to Abby.

“I didn’t think you could come,” he said when he had pushed his way through the crowd to stand in front of her. He was wearing black jeans and a dark green sweater over a white t-shirt. He looked completely different out of his suit, more relaxed.

“My neighbour offered to babysit, so I thought I’d take the opportunity.”

He leaned in to hear her response above the clamour of other voices and he smelled of sandalwood and spice.

“Come and sit with me,” he said, gesturing to his table.

“There’s no room.”

“I’ll make room. Come on.” He walked away leaving Abby no choice but to follow him.

“Take my seat,” he said, pulling out his chair further.

“Oh, no I can’t do that.”

“I’ll get another one. Please.”

Abby sat down, relieved to be able to rest her back which was already aching, and Kane disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a barista carrying a chair. “Where there’s a will,” he said with a smirk.

“This is very kind of you.”

“Nonsense.” The other people on the table shuffled round so the barista could squeeze the chair in next to Abby’s. “Can I get you a drink?” said Kane.

“It’s my turn to get them.”

“You can get the next one. What will you have?” His look suggested he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so Abby gave in.

“My usual I guess. A flat white.”

“You don’t want anything stronger? A glass of wine?”

“They’re serving wine?”

“Yes. It’s a special night.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Abby couldn’t think of a reason why not, except that she hadn’t drunk alcohol in over two years and would probably either embarrass herself or fall asleep after one glass. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“I don’t like to drink alone,” Kane said, one eyebrow raised in hope.

Abby looked around the room. At least half the people had some form of alcoholic drink in front of them. “You have plenty of company,” she said gesturing to the crowd.

Kane didn’t respond, just stood staring at her with his damned raised eyebrow.

“Fine. A small one then. Red. Thank you.” Abby removed her coat and draped it over the back of Kane’s chair as his coat was on the back of hers. She nodded to her other table companions who smiled and then turned their attention to each other. Young lovers, she suspected, from their handholding and eye-gazing. She pushed memories that were trying to bubble up back down.

Kane returned with their drinks and a large bag of chips. “I hope you like Shiraz,” he said, setting her glass in front of her and then climbing into his chair. “It’s all they had.”

Abby took a sip of the wine, and its warmth shot straight to her head and extremities. “It’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

Kane nodded and sipped his own wine. They were squashed close together, limbs touching. Abby could feel the heat of him where their thighs met beneath the table. He didn’t appear to notice. He grabbed a handful of chips and offered her the bag. Abby took a few and they both crunched but were otherwise silent.

“Do you hold book readings in your stores?” Abby said when she’d finished her chips.

“All the time. It’s a while since I’ve been to one, though. Can’t remember the last time.”

“I’m looking forward to this.”

He looked down at her. “Me too.”

Lincoln, who Abby hadn’t noticed before, stood on the small stage area created next to the counter and introduced the author, Anna Nelson, who came out to a round of applause which Abby and Kane joined in. Lincoln spotted Abby as he left the stage and stared at her in surprise before retreating behind the counter. Abby took another sip of her wine. She felt relaxed, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening.

\---

Anna Nelson started to speak, and Kane was amused to see Abby take out a notepad and pen and set them on the table.

“You’re taking notes?” he whispered.

“Of course!” She looked at him as though he was an idiot to even think anything else.

Kane looked away, smiling. It was the teacher in her he supposed. When he’d decided to force himself to come to the book reading, he hadn’t held much hope that she would turn up, but he’d watched the door diligently nevertheless. It had been a shock, then, to turn around and see her leaning against the wall. She must have come in while he was in the restroom.

She was still wearing her winter coat then, and it wasn’t until he came back from getting them a drink that he’d noticed she’d made an effort to dress up for the evening. Gone were the slacks and oversized scruffy sweater she seemed to live in. In their place were tight-fitting grey jeans and a dark blue top that she’d unbuttoned, giving him a glimpse of cleavage and the swell of firm breasts. A necklace with a large wedding ring nestled in the valley between them. Her husband’s he presumed.

She was slimmer than he’d thought, tiny really. He wondered if she was undernourished, because her cheeks were hollow, her cheekbones sharp, chiselled out of her pale face so they stood proud. She was strong, though, not that he didn’t already know that. It was in the set of her jaw, her determined mouth, the steel that glinted in her dark eyes on the occasions that she’d glared at him. Her hair was loose, and she’d curled it so it hung in soft waves. He thought she was beautiful. Not his usual type of woman at all but striking. Rebecca had been classically beautiful, tall, elegant, refined. Abby was more natural, and he found that he liked that about her.

He wasn’t sure what was going on here. He wasn’t looking for a relationship or an entanglement or even just a hook-up, some no strings sex. He was done with all of that for the foreseeable future. But he couldn’t deny that he was attracted to her, was enjoying her proximity, her company. He’d been in love of course, with Rebecca, right up until their abrupt end. He supposed some of that emotion had to go somewhere, and if that was to a woman with whom he had no chance of a relationship or anything complicated then there was nothing wrong with that. She never needed to know, and he had perhaps found a friend, that fellow traveller who knew the bumps in the road and who could help him navigate them. He had nothing to offer her except his company, which wasn’t much of a gift, but maybe it was something she needed too.

“That’s fascinating, isn’t it?” Abby leaned into him and whispered in his ear, causing Kane to jump because he’d been in his own world and her breath was warm and feathery against his skin and sent shivers through him.

“What do you mean?” he said, having no idea what the author had been talking about.

“Her idea of a sense of place, how it manifests itself in her characters. They wouldn’t be the same people in another setting.”

“That’s definitely true,” said Kane, who was a living breathing example of how a change of scene could affect a person.

He sipped his wine and tried harder to concentrate on the author’s words rather than the woman sitting next to him. During the interval he got the barista to bring them both another glass of wine and Abby didn’t complain, just uttered a ‘thank you’ before continuing with her thoughts on what she’d heard. She was animated and excited and it warmed Kane’s heart to see it.

Lincoln approached and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and offered him a broad smile.

“Hi!” she said.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Abby,” he said, his eyes flicking to Kane and then back to her.

“I managed to get a sitter. I’m so glad I did.”

“I wish I’d known; you could have come and sat up front with me instead of sitting back here.” He gave Kane a sly look but Kane didn’t react. He didn’t know what this guy’s problem was, but he wasn’t going to rise to his bait.

“Oh, I’m fine here with Marcus,” she said, oblivious to the veiled insult in Lincoln’s words. “He loves books as well.”

“Does he?” said Lincoln.

“I’m a bookseller,” said Kane. “Books are my life,” which was overblowing his recent relationship with books considerably, but he wanted to cement his standing in Abby’s eyes and those of this over-muscled pumped-up barista.

“I would never have known it,” replied Lincoln, and Kane clenched every muscle in his much less well-developed body.

“He owns Kane and Co; you know the family bookstores?”

Lincoln nodded, feigning interest. He took Abby to one side, turning her away from Kane. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he said. “You can come and sit with me for the second half if you want.”

“No, I’m having a lovely time. Thank you, though.”

Lincoln nodded, gave Kane a lingering look of contempt which Kane felt was unnecessary and undeserved, and then returned to his seat near the counter.

“You can sit with him if you want,” said Kane when they’d resumed their seats. “It’s fine with me.”

Abby’s brow furrowed as she looked at him. “I told you I’m fine. Don’t worry about Lincoln. He’s overprotective that’s all.” She patted Kane’s hand where it lay on the table, the first contact she’d initiated with him, and Kane felt its warm imprint long after she’d taken up her pen and started taking notes again.

“That was fantastic,” said Abby when the reading was over. “I feel like I’ve learned so much.” She stood and Kane stood with her. She reached for her coat which was on the back of Kane’s chair and he picked it up, helped her into it.

“What struck you the most?” he said as he put on his own coat, wrapped his scarf round his neck.

“I think it was her use of language, how she searches for the right word, one that can convey more than its most obvious meaning.”

They reached the door and stepped out into the cold air. Abby shivered and pulled her coat tighter about her. She started walking, still talking and Kane kept pace with her.

“I remember we had an author in the bookstore once who was so intent on finding the perfect word he would sometimes only write a few words in a day. Some days barely a sentence.”

“Oh my God! How did he ever get a novel finished and published?”

“It was a short novel,” said Kane and was rewarded with a deep throaty laugh from Abby.

“A short novel,” she said. “I love it.”

“James Joyce was the same,” Kane said.

“What, even with all those run-on sentences?”

“Yes. I think it varied depending on his mood.”

“I hear that.”

They walked on into the night, feet crunching on the snow, talking about books. He was surprised when Abby suddenly stopped, and walked on a few steps before he realised she wasn’t with him.

“Oh!” she said.

“What’s the matter?”

“This is where I live,” she said, looking up at a crumbling brownstone building with five floors. “I hadn’t realised we’d talked so much. I’ve brought you out of your way. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t notice myself. I was enjoying our conversation.”

“Yes, it was fun.” She worried her bottom lip as she contemplated him. “I should go in. My babysitter will be wondering where I am.”

“Of course. I’m glad you were able to come tonight.”

“Me too. Thank you for the wine, and the seat.” She smiled up at him and Kane’s heart went out to her.

“It was my pleasure.”

She turned to go up the step and then turned back. “I’ll see you in the coffee shop then.”

“You will.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Abby.”

She headed up the steps and Kane watched until she was safely indoors before retracing his route back to the river and his condo. He was light of step as he went, the snow feeling soft as powder beneath his feet, the stars shining above him. She’d enjoyed herself as much as he had he thought, and he’d made her laugh, so that was one thing to tick off the list of things he never thought he’d do again.


	9. Chapter 9

Abby was in the coffee shop early on the Monday following the Thanksgiving weekend. It had been a difficult weekend to get through like all holidays and anniversaries were, but she’d survived it and was celebrating with a blueberry muffin she was sharing with Clarke. She’d been inspired by the book reading she’d attended and had spent most of the time rewriting sections of her novel to enhance its sense of place.

The coffee shop was virtually empty after the holiday weekend. People were either away or too full after their festivities she assumed. Kane was late as well, which was unlike him. She hoped she hadn’t bored him at the book reading. She’d lain in bed afterwards, going over the evening, and realised she’d monopolised him for most of the night. He hadn’t seemed to mind; in fact, she thought he’d enjoyed her company, which was why she was going to tease him a little today, if he showed up. It was a stroke of luck that the man she’d thought was a dull funeral director had turned out to be a bookseller who was as passionate about literature as she was.

Kane entered the coffee shop ten minutes later, hung his coat and scarf on the rack as he always did, then turned to head towards the counter.

He smiled as he passed her table. “Morning,” he said, nodding at her with that half frown he had that she’d at first presumed was condescension but now thought was just the way he was. He was well brought up, probably not used to expressing his emotions. She’d have to make allowances for that.

“Morning, Marcus.”

She waited for him to place his order and then waylaid him on his way past with a raise of her hand.

“I was wondering,” she said, wrapping her arms tighter around Clarke, “if you would you like to be a guest at my table today?”

Kane stopped dead, frowning again. He really ought to stop that or he was going to have a trench between his eyes.

“Erm.”

She’d flummoxed him with her request, clearly. Abby waited, let him think through what she’d asked, decide on his appropriate answer. Would he try to get out of it? And how?

He remained frozen in time for a second, and then his eyes crinkled as he half-smiled. “I’d be honoured.”

“You’ll have to put up with a potentially stinky baby.” Abby jiggled Clarke on her knee.

“Once smelled, never forgotten,” he said wrinkling his nose but smiling at the same time.

“She can do worse. Far worse.”

“I have no doubt.” Kane pulled out a chair opposite Abby and deposited himself in it. He took his laptop and notepad out of his bag, arranged them on the table in front of him but didn’t open the lid.

“Have you recovered from the book reading?” Abby said.

“Not quite. I did some more research on Anna Nelson and I’m having her back catalogue sent up from Minneapolis.”

“Oh, wow. So you were smitten then?”

“You could say that, yes.” Kane adjusted the cuffs of his white shirt, pulled them out from the sleeves of his jacket so she could see the silver cufflinks he wore.

“Why do you wear a suit here?” she said, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “If that’s not too personal a question.”

“No, no. It’s not too personal. Erm, I suppose it makes me feel like I’m at work. If I’m dressed too casually my mind might wander and get distracted and I won’t do what I’m here to do.”

“I doubt that somehow.”

“You think I’m a workaholic?”

“I think you’re diligent.”

Kane pulled a face. “Not the word one would want on one’s tombstone, is it? Here lies Marcus Kane. He was diligent.”

Abby was taking a sip of her coffee when he said this, and she laughed hard and sprayed some across the table. “Sorry,” she said when she saw a spot had landed on his pristine white cuff.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I meant it as a compliment.”

“There are worse things you could see me as.”

“Oh definitely.” Abby got one of Clarke’s baby wipes out of her bag and offered it to Kane but he declined. She wiped the table with it instead. “How would you define me? You have one word.”

Kane rubbed his chin as he contemplated her. “This is dangerous territory,” he said.

“Be brave.”

“Okay. One word to describe you, bearing in mind I don’t know you well, would be... indomitable.”

Abby was surprised at the word he’d chosen. What had he seen in her to make him think that? “What makes you say that?” she said, scrutinising his face to ascertain his true thoughts. He remained poker faced.

“You come here no matter the weather; nothing puts you off. And you write every moment you get. You work around Clarke; you’re focused on your goal.”

He’d obviously thought about her quite a lot while he was sitting over there on his table, hiding behind his laptop. She couldn’t say anything about that because she’d done the same. She’d done it to many of the coffee shop regulars over the months; it passed the time, entertained her. He was probably no different.

“Well, I think I WOULD like that on my tombstone,” she said. “Abby Griffin was indomitable.”

“You’re probably too indomitable to die,” Kane said, and Abby felt herself go cold. A shadow passed over Kane’s face when he saw her reaction. “I’m. I’m sorry,” he said. “That was a stupid thing to say.”

“Not at all.” Abby forced a smile. It wasn’t his fault; he didn’t know her history after all. “I’m going to write for a while,” she said, and she tucked a sleepy Clarke into her stroller.

“Yes,” said Kane. “I must get on too.” He opened his laptop and bent his head.

Abby cursed herself for her reaction. They’d been having a nice time and she’d dropped a bucket of iced water over their conversation. She’d bring it back around once she’d had time to recover.

\---

Fuck! What an idiot he was! A stupid, thoughtless, fuckwit of an idiot. Too indomitable to die. Jesus, Marcus! Kane stared unseeing at his laptop screen. He might as well have stabbed her in the heart with his pen. He’d never seen anyone’s face drain of colour so quickly. She’d gone as white as a sheet and he’d wanted to press rewind and go back five minutes in the conversation. Why indomitable? Why not kind or intelligent, or funny or any of the million things she was other than that? Stupid, stupid man.

He opened his emails, tried to focus on his work. He could see Abby out of the corner of his eye. She had her head down, arm protecting her page as usual. He thought she was avoiding having to look at him and he couldn’t blame her. This was the trouble with knowing something about her she didn’t know he knew. It either led to stupid blunders like he’d just made, or made him over-cautious, unnatural in his interactions with her. Was he always going to wonder what he would have said if he didn’t know? He’d have to find a way to encourage her to tell him so they could be on the same page, assuming she ever wanted to talk to him again.

Kane drank his coffee then forced himself to concentrate on his emails. He had to peruse Martin’s list of candidates for redundancy, which wasn’t a pleasant task, but as he could hardly feel any worse it seemed the perfect time to get it over with.

When he sat back after finalising his list, he saw that Abby was watching him.

“That looked painful,” she said. “Whatever you were doing.”

Her dark eyes were full of concern, and Kane was pleased she was speaking to him, but confused about her comment.

“How do you know?”

“You were doing a lot of grimacing and sighing.”

“Oh! I didn’t realise. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

Abby sat back and folded her arms in front of her chest. “You didn’t. I was procrastinating and you were the perfect distraction.”

“I have to streamline some areas of the company,” Kane said.

“Meaning jobs?”

“Some. It’s inevitable.”

“Is there no other way?”

“Not that I can think of. It’s not something I’m undertaking lightly.”

“I can see that.”

Kane took off his glasses. He didn’t really want to talk about this even though he’d provided the opening. He’d already put his foot in it with Abby this morning. He didn’t want her to think he was a soulless corporate asshole on top of that. “How’s the writing going?” he said, turning the spotlight on her instead.

“I was very inspired after the book reading, so I did quite a bit of rewriting over the weekend.”

“That’s great. How far along are you?” He indicated her pad which had moved on considerably since he’d first noticed her scribbling away. She was close to the end of it.

“This is my third pad, so I’m near the end. I hope to have finished the first draft by Christmas.”

Kane was impressed by her dedication, but he didn’t want to call her something else that would lead to embarrassment. “I wish you well with it,” he said.

Abby looked at him amused. She seemed to have forgiven his faux pas earlier, and Kane relaxed. “You can ask me, you know,” she said with a smirk.

“Ask you what?”

“What the novel’s about.”

“Ah.”

“Everyone always wants to know.”

“What makes you think I do?” Kane said this in as deadpan a voice as he could manage, which he knew from comments he’d had throughout his life was very believable.

Abby wasn’t easily fooled, though, but she played along, feigned indignation, raising both eyebrows and sucking her cheeks in. Her cheekbones were mountain ridges a man could die on.

“I’m kidding,” continued Kane, not wanting to drag out this joke too long in case it went awry. “I’ve wanted to know since I first saw you scribbling away.”

“Have you?”

“Yes. I’ve imagined all sorts of things.”

Abby leant forward, her eyes curious and amused. “Such as?”

Kane had to think on his feet, because he wanted to make her laugh, and that required some ingenuity. “It’s a historical biography of the coffee bean.”

Abby smirked. “Hmmm. No, but that’s definitely a book I could write.”

“Minnesota: How To Survive Winter By Hibernating.”

Abby snorted.

“Miss Abby’s Feeling For Snow.”

“Oh, very good. You’ve read that book?”

“In the original Danish.”

“No!”

“No.” Kane laughed. “I have read it, though. I enjoyed it.”

“You’re a bit of a bastard, aren’t you?”

“It has been said. I can’t think why, though.”

“Me either.”

“I’ve got it,” Kane said. “It’s about a serial killer who befriends her victims in a coffee shop.” He twisted his face into one of abject terror.

“Damn! You got me.”

“Should I be worried?”

“I would say so, yes.” She looked at Clarke, who was starting to stir. She had a broad smile on her face and Kane was glad. He felt like he had saved the day from that terrible start.

Abby took Clarke out of her chair and kissed her. She cradled her while her daughter slowly came around. “It is a thriller actually. It’s very cold and dark.”

“I knew there was something of the night about you.”

For the first time he saw light reach Abby’s eyes because of something other than her daughter. They danced with amusement. She shook her head. “I never guessed you’d be so funny.”

“You didn’t know me.”

“No, but I’m starting to.” She smiled almost shyly.

Kane decided to push his luck, because he felt they were on the brink of something here, a friendship, something that might sustain them both through the long dark nights ahead.

“I had an email today from Raven, my secretary in Minneapolis.”

“Is she sending you the contents of your entire bookstore?”

“Not quite. She said there’s a winter festival in Duluth next week. Arts mainly but also literature. There could be some contacts I can make there.”

Abby blew soft raspberries against Clarke’s nose, making the girl giggle. “That sounds fun.”

“Why don’t you come with me? It’s in the daytime so you could bring Clarke. Might be interesting for you, if there are other authors there.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Duluth is a long way.”

“It’s only an hour or so. It would be nice to have some company.”

She stroked Clarke’s blonde hair, kissed her head. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course. It’s next Friday, so just let me know by then.”

“Okay.”

Kane closed his laptop. “I have to go. I have a call scheduled.”

“Your office?”

“No, my mother actually.” He rolled his eyes. “She schedules her calls so I can’t get out of them.”

“Is that the woman I saw you with on the riverbank?”

“Yes. She drives me crazy, but she only has my best interests at heart, or so she says.”

“They all say that.”

“They do.” Kane stood, went to fetch his coat and scarf. “I’ll see you, then.”

“You will.”

He was about to leave when Clarke reached out to him, garbling some nonsense at him. Kane was paralyzed for a moment, unsure what to do. He reached across and took the child’s small hand between finger and thumb and shook it gently. “Goodbye,” he said.

He glanced at Abby. She was hiding her mouth behind her hand, but he could tell she was laughing. She composed herself enough to speak to her daughter.

“Say bye to Marcus, Clarke.”

“Bye-bye,” said Clarke. They were the first proper words Kane had heard her say. He hoped they weren’t her first words ever, because that would be embarrassing. She was too old, surely, and Abby would have made a fuss if they had been. You’re an idiot, he told himself, for the second time that day.

Kane nodded, then hurried out of the coffee shop. His heart was beating faster than normal, and it wasn’t from the cold hitting him after the warmth of the shop. This will not get complicated. It absolutely will not. He repeated this mantra all the way back to his condo, and by the time he got there, he was half believing it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duluth part one

When Kane entered the coffee shop the following Thursday there was no sign of Abby. He went up to the counter and Louisa served him his usual coffee and a cinnamon swirl.

“I have a message for you,” she said as he was about to go to his table.

“Oh?”

“It’s from Mrs Griffin.” She handed him a yellow post-it.

Kane waited until he was at his table before looking at it. It wasn’t in Abby’s handwriting, so it must have been written by Louisa or one of the baristas.

_Mrs Griffin called. She has work at the school so won’t be in. She will go to Duluth. Please call her on 555-2164._

Kane read it again. She wanted to go to Duluth with him. A warm feeling spread through him. He picked up his cell phone and started to punch in the number, but then thought better of it. He didn’t want to appear too eager; besides, it was a landline and if she was at the school she wouldn’t be there to answer it. He’d have to wait until that evening.

At home that evening he poured himself a glass of wine and sat on his sofa, cell phone in hand. He shouldn’t feel nervous about calling her; he wasn’t a teenager and was perfectly adept at speaking to women over the telephone. Nevertheless, it was with a feeling of anticipation that he dialled the number. It rang a few times and Kane checked his watch. It was eight o’clock and he’d deliberately waited until he’d thought Clarke should be in bed before ringing so he wouldn’t disturb her, but perhaps he’d got his timings wrong. Another couple of rings and then there was a click.

“Hello?”

“Hi, erm, Abby. It’s Marcus Kane.”

“Hello, Marcus Kane.”

Kane could hear her smile in her voice. “I got your note,” he said.

“I’d assumed you had otherwise you wouldn’t be able to call me.”

“True, true.” Kane leant against the back of the sofa. “So you want to come to Duluth?”

“I have nothing better to do.”

“I’m honoured.”

Abby laughed softly. “It’s Friday then? What time?”

“I’ll pick you up if you like, around ten?”

There was silence for a moment. “In your car?”

“Yes.”

“Erm, I’d rather catch the bus if that’s okay?”

“That’s probably at least a couple of hours, Abby. It will be quicker in my car.” As he said those words Kane realised why she might not want to go in a car, and his stomach churned. He had to see this conversation through, because a person who didn’t know about her accident wouldn’t understand why she wanted to catch the bus. He hoped she was going to tell him because this was torture.

“I. I erm, I don’t like to travel by car.”

“Why not?” said Kane, his mouth dry, his tongue thick. He took a sip of his wine to lubricate it.

Silence again. It seemed to stretch on forever and Kane didn’t know if he should fill it or wait for her, let her tell him in her own time.

“I was in a car accident a while ago. I can’t do it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. You’re okay now, though?” God, this was awful. He wished he’d never read about her past, should never have been so nosey, but he’d had no idea at the time he’d ever talk to her, let alone be planning to spend time with her.

“Well, I survived.” There was a tremble in her voice, and her breaths were loud in his ear.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t want to travel by car.”

“Can you?” She sounded relieved.

“Yes, of course. We’ll go by bus. It will be an adventure.” Kane had never been on a bus in his entire life and wasn’t keen on the idea at all, but if it was the only way to get Abby to Duluth then he’d have to do it.

“There’s one at nine-fifteen that will get us into Duluth at eleven, so we won’t lose much time.”

“That sounds perfect. Shall I meet you at your home?”

“Yes if you like. Do you remember the address?”

“Not the exact building.”

“It’s 309 Dale St North, apartment 502.”

“I’ll see you there just before nine. Will that get us to the bus station in time?”

“Yes it’s only a ten minute walk.”

“I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

“Yeah, see you Friday. Bye, Marcus.”

“Bye, Abby.”

Kane ended the call and reached for his drink. She’d mentioned the accident, so it was only a matter of time before she told him the rest of the story, and then they could start their friendship properly, on an open and honest footing. He pushed down the thought that this would mean having to tell her his own story. He wasn’t keen to do it because it made him look like the fool he was. One thing at a time, he told himself.

\---

Kane arrived at Abby’s building ten minutes before nine. In the daylight the brownstone was even more dilapidated than it had looked when he’d first seen it. The brickwork was crumbling, some of the windowpanes were blown, and torn sheets in place of curtains or blinds seemed to be the décor of choice amongst the residents. The buzzer for 502 had the name Griffin next to it and he pressed it and stood back, not quite believing she was going to answer, that she really lived in a building like this.

She did, though, because a few seconds later her voice crackled over the intercom.

“Hello?”

“It’s Marcus.”

“Hi. I’ll buzz you in. You can wait in the lobby. I won’t be long.”

Kane opened the door and entered the building. What she had euphemistically called a lobby was a grubby hallway with brown paint peeling from the walls and a row of battered mailboxes. There were thirty apartments in this godforsaken place and Abby’s was on the top floor. How bad were her finances that she was stuck living here?

Five minutes went by during which Kane tried not to touch anything. There was a potted plant on the windowsill that was the only thing to look cared for. Kane wondered if Abby was responsible for it. He heard someone clumping down the stairs and Abby appeared, a snow-suited Clarke held against her hip, the stroller in her other hand and a bag slung across her shoulders, its strap biting into her neck. Kane sprang forward, took the stroller out of her hand.

“Thank you,” Abby said.

“Why didn’t you tell me there wasn’t an elevator? I’d have come up and helped you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m used to it.” She opened the stroller deftly with one hand and put her foot on its various joints, snapping them closed. She strapped a chattering Clarke into the chair and slung the bag over the handle.

“Ready!” she said.

Kane had to force himself to move, because his mind was too busy picturing her lugging Clarke and the stroller up and down five flights of stairs countless times every day. There were only three storeys in Kane’s condominium, but there was an elevator and he was ashamed to think he caught it even though he could easily walk three flights to the top floor, and he wasn’t encumbered with a child and all her paraphernalia.

Abby was wearing her grey jeans again and a pair of knee-high black boots with silver straps. Her grey woollen coat was buttoned up to her chin and she pulled on a dark blue hat with a fluffy bobble. Kane went ahead of her and opened the door before taking hold of the front of the stroller and helping her down the steps with it. She smiled her gratitude.

“It’s a beautiful day for it,” she said, looking up at the blue sky with its high cirrus clouds.

“The weather’s set fair in Duluth, I’ve checked,” replied Kane.

“Good.”

Abby pushed the stroller and Kane walked by her side. “I’ve never been on a bus in my life,” Kane confessed, and Abby looked up at him her eyes wide with shock.

“You’re kidding?”

“No. I spent most of my childhood either going with my father to our office in the Warehouse District or to the flagship bookstore in downtown Minneapolis and was basically chauffeured everywhere, and then as soon as I was old enough to learn to drive I did and my parents gifted me a car. I’ve never had to take the bus.”

“Wow! You must have had quite the life.”

“I was privileged, yes, although I didn’t realise it. It was just my life. I didn’t know any different.”

“I would often get the bus even before the accident. I liked not having to concentrate. You can drift away on a bus, plot stories, think about characters.”

“Ever the writer,” said Kane.

“Yes.”

There was a long line already waiting for the bus and they joined the end of it. “I didn’t know Duluth by bus was so popular,” said Kane, surprised at how many people were waiting, many with suitcases, all of them wrapped up against the biting December cold.

“There’s a whole other world out here, you know,” said Abby with a grin.

When they finally boarded the bus, Abby showed her pass to the driver and looked around for a seat while Kane paid his fare.

“There’s not enough room for the stroller. I’ll have to fold it up.” Abby picked up Clarke and held her towards Kane. “Take Clarke a minute,” she said, thrusting her into his arms so he had no choice.

He’d never held a baby before, and she was heavier than he was expecting for something so small. He remained in the same position, his arms out straight, Clarke dangling in mid-air, while Abby took her bag off the stroller and started to fold the chair. Clarke stared at him wide-eyed, and he pulled a face at her. She laughed, so he pulled another one. Abby looked up.

“You can hold her closer you know; she won’t bite you.”

Kane placed Clarke on his hip like he’d seen Abby do. She reached out to play with the buttons on his coat. “Do you like those?” he said, feeling silly for talking to someone who couldn’t understand him and couldn’t talk back.

She gurgled something unintelligible. “I’ll take that as a yes,” said Kane.

Abby put the stroller in the luggage rack then found two adjacent seats further down the bus. Kane followed her and handed Clarke to her once she was settled. He looked at his seat, grimacing at the worn patch in the centre and the dubious stain at the edge. He lowered himself into place, not wanting to show his disdain to Abby because he knew it would seem like a condemnation of her and her life, which was the last thing he wanted. It was only for a couple of hours, and clothes could be dry cleaned.

The bus jerked as it moved off, and Kane put his hand out to clutch the back of the seat in front of him, glad he was wearing gloves. He wasn’t going to take them off no matter how warm he got. He couldn’t do anything about the damp, mouldy smells that were assaulting his nostrils. He’d have to hope he got used to them.

“Never been on a bus,” said Abby, laughing softly. “What do you think of that, Clarke?”

“Bus!” said Clarke.

“That’s right!” Abby looked at Marcus with surprise and delight. “She’s never said that word before.”

“Say Marcus,” said Kane, looking intently at Clarke. She looked back at him, then blew bubbles out of her mouth. “She’s not a fan of my name,” he said.

“It might be a bit hard for her to say. She’s only managed ten words so far. Are you going to survive the next hour and a half?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

They sat squashed together, Clarke on Abby’s knee, playing with a large blue plastic hoop. She spent most of the time putting it in her mouth then pulling it out covered in strings of saliva. Kane hoped she wouldn’t soil her diaper again, because in this confined space it would be beyond unpleasant.

For the rest of the journey, Kane and Abby discussed every book Anna Nelson had written in between Abby playing with Clarke and feeding her. The time passed more quickly than Kane expected, and he forgot the stains and the smells and the close proximity of what seemed like most of Minnesota’s unwashed population.

They arrived in a very snowy Duluth half an hour later than expected after being stuck on the highway in the tail end of a road traffic accident that thankfully didn’t look too bad when they passed the two dented cars at the side of the road. Abby didn’t look, kept her head down talking to Clarke, but Kane could see her tension in the way she held her shoulders stiffly, her arms wrapped tightly around Clarke as though she could mould her body into that of her daughter’s and disappear.

Kane carried Clarke off the bus and deposited her in the stroller and Abby fastened her in.

They joined the crowds on the short walk to Bayfront Festival Park on the edge of Lake Superior. Kane had never been this far north in the state before, and never seen the great lake. He paid their entrance fee, waiving Abby’s hand away when she dug into her purse for her share.

“The company is paying for it,” he said, which wasn’t true, but she didn’t need to know that. “It’s a work outing.”

“I don’t work for your company,” said Abby, putting her purse away.

“You do today. I expect you to take notes of any business conversations I have.” He looked at her deadpan and she stared back, trying to work out if he was serious or not.

“I always have my notebook with me,” she said, patting her bag.

“Then you are prepared.”

The park was thronged with people; Kane thought most of Duluth and half of northern Minnesota must be at the winter festival. The snow within the park had turned to an icy slush beneath so many feet, staining Kane’s Dockers a dirty white. They wandered amongst the stalls; Kane happy to follow Abby as she browsed the craft stands. He’d never minded shopping, mainly because he’d liked to treat Rebecca if he saw her take an interest in a particular item. He couldn’t do that with Abby, not yet, but he enjoyed learning what caught her eye. She was fond of books, no surprise, candles and anything carved out of wood. Kane saw a loon made from polished cottonwood, which reminded him of a chapter of Anna Nelson’s book that they’d both enjoyed, and he waited until Abby was chatting to another stall keeper before buying it and secreting it in his backpack. He didn’t know if he’d ever get a chance to give it to her, but at least he was prepared.

Kane checked his watch. It was nearly midday, and there was a discussion on the place of the physical bookstore in a virtual world that he needed to attend. Abby was still chatting animatedly to the stall owner, so he tapped her lightly on the shoulder, causing her to turn around.

“I need to get to a lecture that’s relevant to work. Do you want to come with me or have a wander on your own?”

“What’s it about?”

He told her and she agreed to go with him.

\---

Abby managed to hear half of the lecture before Clarke started to gristle and she got a few annoyed glances from other people in the tent. She suspected Marcus would have been one of them if he hadn’t known her. He shifted in his seat but didn’t say anything. Normally, Abby would brazen it out because if she left something every time Clarke cried she’d never do or see anything and besides a baby expressing itself was perfectly natural. They were in a serious lecture, however, and a confined space, and she was the only person with a child of any age.

“I’m going to take her outside,” she whispered to Marcus. He started to stand but she put her hand on his arm to hold him down. “No, stay. I won’t go far.” He nodded, but she could feel his eyes on her as she left the tent.

Abby walked up and down with Clarke, jiggling her in her arms, trying to tempt her with the plastic ring she loved so much, and after ten minutes of pacing she quietened down enough to be put in her stroller where she promptly fell asleep. It was close to her nap time so Abby didn’t try to keep her awake; she was clearly exhausted. The trip to Duluth had been the longest they’d taken since she was born, and Marcus was new to her, although she seemed to have taken to him well enough. Abby had seen him pulling faces at her while holding her at arm’s length as though she was contagious. He was a strange guy; sharp and intelligent and yet incredibly dorky. He really had no idea about the realities of life. She guessed that happened when you were brought up with privilege. She liked him, though, what little she knew of him, and he was good company, something she’d been lacking for too long.

Abby didn’t bother returning to the lecture as it was due to end, and Marcus exited the tent a few minutes later, looking around for her. He smiled when he saw her.

“Sorry you missed the second half,” he said.

“You can catch me up later.”

“Shall we...”

“Kane!” A man’s voice boomed out and Abby saw Kane stiffen. He turned slowly. A well-built dark-skinned man was approaching them.

“Charles,” said Marcus.

The man called Charles held his hand out to Marcus and pumped it enthusiastically. “I thought that was you.” He looked past Marcus to Abby and Clarke. “Who’s this, your secret second family? I wondered why you were hiding away up here.”

Second family? Did Marcus have a first family somewhere? He’d never ventured any personal information but then neither had Abby. She’d only mentioned the accident because she had no choice. She looked closely at Marcus to gauge his reaction; the tips of his ears had gone pink. What did that mean? Why did this man think Marcus was hiding, and if he was, from what?

“Erm, this is Abby Griffin. She’s a local author. Abby, this is Charles Pike of Farm Station Publishing.”

Abby had heard of them; they were one of the top publishing houses in the Midwest. “Hello,” she said, holding out her own hand towards Charles.

“Nice to meet you. What genre do you write in?”

“I’m a thriller writer,” she said, which was stretching the truth as it made her sound like she pumped out novels on a regular basis whereas in reality she hadn’t finished her first and hadn’t let herself even think about getting it published, but Marcus had introduced her confidently, and so she followed his lead. He approved, because she saw him nod.

“Have you had anything published?”

“Abby’s in talks with a couple of houses about her debut novel,” said Marcus before she had a chance to reply.

“Really? I’m surprised you haven’t sent her my way, Kane.”

“Nothing to do with me,” replied Marcus. “Abby has been negotiating herself; I’m just a fan.”

“Well send me a draft,” said Pike. “I’ll look it over.”

“Will do. We must go. Good to see you, Charles.” Marcus walked away and Abby followed, forcing Clarke’s stroller through the compacted snow. Her mind was whirling. What had just happened?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duluth part two

Marcus walked quickly across the park, weaving his way through the crowds.

“Marcus,” Abby said, trying to catch him up.

“I’m hungry,” he said. “There’s a firepit down at the lake’s edge. Let’s go there.” He strode off. He seemed angry or upset or something Abby couldn’t define. She followed as fast as she could, hoping Clarke wouldn’t wake as she bounced over the uneven ground. She wanted to ask him so many questions, but he had his head down as he marched towards the lake.

A campfire had been lit near the pavilion, with rows of log seats embedded into the snow-covered grass. Marcus walked the length of the semi-circle until he found two close together. “Will this do?” he said.

“It’s lovely,” said Abby, still unsure of his mood and what had caused it.

Marcus sat on one of the logs and Abby sat on the other, Clarke’s stroller next to her. Marcus opened his backpack and took out an array of plastic containers. “I took the liberty of bringing some food; I hope you don’t mind.”

Abby stared at the containers as he opened them. He seemed to have collected foods from around the world because there was a rice dish that looked like a veggie paella, a pasta salad, samosas, spring rolls and some sandwiches cut into small triangles with the crusts removed. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he said.

“It all looks wonderful!” Abby didn’t know what else to say. She hadn’t expected Marcus to provide anything and had borrowed ten dollars from Diana at the school to pay for some food for her and Clarke, anticipating high costs at the festival. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I’ve been trying to reduce my stocks since my mother visited.” He rolled his eyes, then brought out paper plates and cutlery. He handed a plate and a knife and fork to Abby. “Help yourself. I made Clarke some sandwiches, is that okay?”

“What’s on them?”

“Cheese mainly, and some have salmon paté.”

“She’ll probably eat a cheese one, when she wakes up. This is very kind of you.”

Marcus piled something from each container on his plate then sat and stared out across the lake towards the aerial lift, which was glinting in the low winter sun.

Abby helped herself to the rice salad and a spring roll. She watched him as he ate silently. She couldn’t see how he could have a first family, or certainly not a child. He would be more comfortable with Clarke, know what she could eat and what she couldn’t, unless he was a really hands-off dad. Something Charles Pike had said had upset him though, clearly. “Are you okay?” she said at last.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“What happened back there?”

“You mean with Charles?”

“Yes.”

“I hope you don’t mind me talking you up; it’s how this business works. If someone thinks someone else is interested in you, then they’re instantly interested themselves. It’s an age-old tactic.”

Abby had meant what happened to put you in a bad mood, but he either didn’t realise the aura he was giving off, or he didn’t want to talk about it. She played along. “You don’t have to try and get my book published, not that I don’t appreciate your help.”

“You have to take your chances when they appear, Abby. Trust me.”

“You haven’t even read the book. I could be a terrible writer for all you know.”

He shrugged, forked some pasta salad into his mouth. “I’ve honed my gut instinct over the years.”

Abby sat quietly eating a spring roll. She was flattered and she had to admit his faith in her left her with a warm feeling. He didn’t even know her, but he was recommending her to one of his important contacts. What did all this mean?

“Of course, you know I’ll have to read it now,” he said, and he turned to look at her, his eyes glowing in the firelight.

“Is that what this is all about? An elaborate ruse to get to read my novel?”

“Busted,” he said, smirking.

His mood seemed to have improved and Abby relaxed. “The only trouble is it’s all hand-written. You probably won’t be able to understand half of it.” She laughed but Marcus looked serious when he turned to her.

“You’ll have to type it up. Publishers won’t take kindly to a hand-written manuscript. There are strict rules.”

“I know. I was going to start going to the library once I’ve finished it to use their computers.”

“You don’t have a computer yourself?”

“Erm, no. I’m a bit of a Luddite,” she said, which wasn’t true but she didn’t want him to know the extent of her poverty. It was bad enough he’d seen the state of her apartment building.

“I have a spare laptop I sometimes use as a back-up for work. I’ll lend it you.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that. I’ll be fine at the library.”

“Nonsense,” he said, dismissing her wishes with a wave of his hand. “What are you going to do, sit in there with Clarke all day? If you have a laptop you can do it whenever you want, or when she’s asleep. It’s much more convenient.” He ate a spring roll while he looked at her confidently, expecting her to say yes, be grateful, but Abby didn’t like being railroaded.

“I’ll be fine at the library. I can take care of myself.”

“That is quite clear,” said Marcus, “but you need to be smart and single-minded if you’re going to succeed in getting published. You need a laptop; I have a laptop. It’s simple to me.”

He didn’t see how he was forcing his opinion on her, making her do what he wanted because he thought it was for the best. He was a dominant man, used to getting what he wanted. Abby preferred to do things her way and not be dictated to. The trouble was he was right. To have a computer in her home would be a dream come true. She could work in the evenings when Clarke was asleep and pay more attention to her daughter during the day. She had to find a way of agreeing without letting him think she was malleable otherwise he’d think he could take control of everything in her life.

“I have my own mind, Marcus, you know.”

“Of course. I...”

“So I will accept your offer in this instance, but in future I’d prefer a little more discussion and less commanding.”

She tried to say the words kindly, but his face paled, and she wondered if her intentions hadn’t come across well. He was silent for a second, during which Abby was tempted to take back her words and try to appease him, but then that would send the wrong signal, so she waited.

“You’re right,” he said at last. “It’s something I do; I’ve been told before, many times.”

“I appreciate you wanting to help, but it would be nicer if it was offered rather than thrust upon me.”

“Yes, yes. I understand.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, of course not. It’s never easy to learn a lesson about oneself, is it? Perhaps a beer will soothe my injured pride.” He looked chagrined but not angry as he started to get up.

“Let me get it. I owe you for the book reading and for all of this,” Abby said, gesturing to the food.

Marcus opened his mouth to object, then obviously thought better of it after their conversation. “Thank you,” he said. “I think they have Furious by Surly Brewing Company. I’ll have that.”

“Okay. Are you okay with Clarke while I go?”

He looked stricken at the thought but nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

Abby bought his beer and a lemonade for herself with the money Diana had loaned her. She could have saved it and returned it but Marcus had been so generous with her and she’d wounded his pride so it was the least she could do.

When she returned to the fire, she stopped short. Marcus had Clarke on his knee and was holding one of the sandwich triangles out to her, trying to get her to eat it. Clarke was laughing at him, then shutting her mouth firmly when he moved the sandwich towards her. Abby’s heart thumped in her chest and her throat tightened so she could hardly breathe. Tears welled unbidden to her eyes. Seeing a man alone with Clarke, talking to her, feeding her, was overwhelming. It brought into even sharper focus the daily thoughts she had about what Jake was missing out on, and how Clarke would never know the touch of her father, his smell, his eyes shining with love. It was a good thing Marcus didn’t look anything like Jake, because if he had, she didn’t think she’d have been able to take control of herself at all. It was enough of a struggle to make her body move.

Abby walked towards Marcus and Clarke on feet that felt leaden and handed Marcus his beer with a shaky hand. He looked up at her and his smile faded.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Abby said, her voice cracking and betraying her.

“You don’t seem fine. Did something happen at the bar? Did someone upset you?”

“No, it’s not that.” Abby sat on her log and reached out for Clarke. Marcus deposited the child in her arms.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped by picking her up. She woke and was crying, and I didn’t want to leave her in the stroller.”

He was worried that it was him who’d upset her, and that made Abby feel worse and tears rolled down her face before she could stop them.

“Oh, God,” said Marcus, horror on his face. “I shouldn’t have touched her. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. God no, it’s not you.” Abby reached out and took his hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go. She stared at the fire, watched the flames dance and leap into the air like the ghosts of the dead. She was going to have to tell him; there was no getting around it.

“I was married,” she said in a quiet voice, still looking at the fire but aware of his eyes on her. “He died in the car accident. I only just survived, and Clarke was born the next day. Jake never knew her.” Abby sobbed and Marcus reached out to her, offering his hand. She took it, needing the comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

Abby took deep breaths, trying to compose herself. She realised she’d never told anyone new the story; hadn’t had to. Everyone had always known. She hadn’t wanted Marcus to know, because she was enjoying being herself with him, not an object of pity or gossip. She didn’t want to be that woman whose husband died in the terrible accident, which was what she heard whispered in the supermarket and most places she went. She was kidding herself, though, because she IS that woman. She’s a part of her and always will be. She couldn’t hide it from him or anyone for long because it would mean hiding who she was, good and bad.

“When I saw you with her...well it was hard that’s all,” she said, wiping away her tears with her free hand.

“Because it should be him?”

“Yes. Yes.” He knew; he knew what she’d been thinking. It was a relief to know that he saw that.

“I understand.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand, and then he let her go, as though he knew that holding onto her any longer would cross an invisible boundary between them, one that she wasn’t ready for either of them to step over. Not after what just happened; that much was clear.

\---

Kane dropped Abby’s hand with some reluctance. A large part of him wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her while she cried her tears out on his shoulder, but that would be for his comfort, not hers. Her plight had plucked at his heart strings since he’d first found out about it, but pity wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be seen as strong and independent, which she was; the incident over the computer had shown him that. He didn’t know if he’d said enough or the right thing; when people had commiserated with him over Rebecca he’d just wanted them to go away and shut up, preferring the few people who either ignored him completely or pretended nothing had happened. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that, but sometimes it was what you needed. He suspected Abby was the same.

He was glad she’d told him, because it took the stress of him accidentally revealing his knowledge to her away. She’d told him something else though, he felt, something she maybe didn’t know she’d revealed but he got the message. She didn’t want a relationship; she wasn’t ready for another man to do fatherly things with Clarke, not in a permanent, romantic kind of way at least.

It was another relief, truth be told, because it took that element out of their relations and now he felt they could truly become friends, if she wanted that. He wanted it, more than he might deep down secretly want any other kind of relationship. It was something he needed desperately; he saw that now. He’d wondered when they’d first met if he gave off an air of loneliness and he realised he must do, because he was lonely, and so was she. It’s why they’d been drawn to each other. He mustn’t do anything to fuck up the potential of their friendship.

Abby was holding tightly to Clarke, her face buried in the child’s blonde hair that was so like that of her father. What must it be like to see your dead husband in your child every day? Was it a relief, a way of keeping him alive, or was it a torture, seeing the face of someone you’ve loved but can no longer have? Probably a bit of both. At least she’d loved Jake, so a mini version of him might be bittersweet but ultimately comforting. If he had a daughter who looked just like Rebecca he honestly couldn’t say how he’d feel about it. She’d be her own personality of course, and he’d have already loved her before everything went wrong with his wife, but still, seeing that face every day would be painful. He couldn’t even stay in Minneapolis for fear of running into the original owner.

Kane shook his head. He was drifting into a world of what would never be. They hadn’t started their family, so it didn’t matter whether a hypothetical child would look like either of them. That child would never exist. That thought tugged at another heartstring, one that was still connected to Rebecca no matter what he did to sever it. He had to put her out of his mind and concentrate on the woman in front of him. She needed something from him and he could only hope he would be able to deliver.

“Clarke’s not a fan of my sandwiches,” he said, gambling that she would see the comment for what it was, an attempt to lighten the mood, to give her a way out of this conversation, be something other than grieving widow.

She turned her brown eyes onto him. They were bright with the remnants of her tears. “She’s discerning,” she said, a smile tugging gently at the corners of her mouth.

“I shall try not to be offended by that remark.” Kane stuck his nose in the air, looked down it at Abby and Clarke.

She laughed, and then another small sob hitched in her chest. “You’re a wonderful man,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

Kane looked into her sad eyes. Something else was needed of him yet, an admission, something to bind them. “You don’t know this yet, but underneath this handsome, cool exterior I’m a mess too.”

She laughed softly. “Are you really?”

“Yes. I just hide it well. I need a friend, Abby,” he said, his own voice cracking as he said it.

“So do I.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek.

“Then it’s a good job we found each other.”

“Will you tell me?”

“Yes, but not today.” He smiled, then he picked up a cheese triangle and held it towards Clarke. “Are you going to hurt my feelings, or are you going to eat this?”

Clarke blew raspberries at him again, and then she reached out and took the sandwich.  

“I knew you couldn’t resist for long.”

Abby laughed, and Clarke stuffed the sandwich into her mouth. Kane relaxed. He felt happy for the first time in months.

\---

By the time they arrived back at Abby’s apartment building a few hours later something had changed between them. They were easier with each other, and that cloud of things that couldn’t be said that had hovered over them had lifted. It wouldn’t go away until Kane told her the truth about why he was in Arkadia Falls, but the mere fact that he’d admitted there was a story to tell felt like a reveal, and was enough to remove any tension between them until he felt ready to tell her everything. She hadn’t told him everything either, her financial situation being the main thing, but that would come in time.

Kane was standing in the lobby of Abby’s building, holding onto Clarke’s stroller while Abby checked her mailbox.

“Nothing,” she said as she returned.

“Were you expecting something?”

“Not really.” She took Clarke out of the stroller and handed her to Kane while she collapsed it. When it was folded she held her arms out to receive her daughter.

“May I carry the stroller up the stairs for you?” said Kane, smirking to show that he had listened to her earlier admonishments.

“How can I say no to such a polite request?” Abby grinned, and handed the chair to Kane.

He huffed as he carried it up flight after flight. How the hell did she manage this and Clarke and presumably groceries and other items? It got heavier the further he went.

“You’re out of condition,” Abby said as he stood with one hand on the wall beside her front door, breathing heavily.

“I am realising that,” puffed Kane.

“I’ll get you a glass of water.” She took Clarke into the apartment, leaving the door open, and Kane hesitated a moment before bringing the stroller in.

Her apartment was tiny; her living room not much bigger than Kane’s bathroom. A row of bookshelves dominated the room, lined up one after the other against one wall, and a playpen sat in another corner next to a small chest with Toys written on the side and a stencil of some building blocks with A, B and C on them. There was a small TV, a large sofa and a chair which took up most of the living space. She had cream curtains with red poppies on them and the walls that weren’t lined with books were covered in framed photos of her, her husband and Clarke. Everything was clean and neat. This was her world; it was small, but it contained all the things that were most important to her, and nothing that wasn’t. Kane’s condo looked cold and impersonal compared to this, despite its grandeur and size.

Kane smiled as Abby returned with a glass of water for him. Clarke was asleep on her hip.

“I’m just going to put Clarke down. Take a seat if you want.” She disappeared into a room at the back of the apartment and Kane took the opportunity to investigate the kitchen. That too was tiny. There was a small table folded up against the wall with two chairs tucked under it and a highchair. There were no appliances other than a cooker, refrigerator and microwave. Everything was a drab brown, but she had a Christmas cactus on the windowsill that was flowering and it brought a touch of colour to the room.

He hurried back to the living room and sank into the chair, which had seen better days. His knees felt higher than the rest of his body, so he pulled himself up and perched on the edge instead. Abby returned and sighed.

“She’s out, bless her.”

“It was an exciting day for her,” said Kane, who had no idea what children of Clarke’s age noticed or felt, but it was something to say.

“Yes.” Abby sat on the sofa. “It was a lovely day, despite, you know.”

“It gave me an idea,” said Kane, a spark flickering into life as he said the words.

“Oh, yes?”

“Why don’t we put on a festival in Arkadia Falls?”

Abby sat forward, her hands on her knees. “Like the one we’ve just been to?”

“Yes, but more literary-focused. Sponsored by Kane and Co.” The idea had just formed in his mind but Kane felt butterflies in his stomach and knew he was onto something. His gut rarely let him down when it came to work.

“Ooh, that sounds like fun! When would you do it?”

“I was thinking late March or early April. End of winter, coming of spring. A new beginning kind of thing.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“It wouldn’t be me doing it.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking we could do it.”

“Me and you?” Abby’s surprise was palpable.

“Yes. I can’t do it by myself and my team is too far away in Minneapolis. You could help me organise it.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Neither have I. We could learn together.” Enthusiasm filled Kane’s voice with happiness, and ideas started to roll one after the other into his mind. “It could be a real family event. Book readings, maybe even enactments with actors. It could be all over town, not just in one place. We could have a roving story telling along the riverbank!”

“Slow down,” said Abby laughing.

“What do you think? Will you do it?”

“I love the idea, but I don’t know if I can commit to something like that. I’d have to take work at the school if it came up.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to do it for free. I’ll pay you a consultancy fee, or rather the company will.”

She stared at him, no doubt trying to work out if he was selling her a line or was genuinely enthused by the idea. He was, the more he thought about it.

“Raven will help us; she’s my secretary.”

“I thought you had to streamline the company. Won’t this cost a lot of money?”

“Potentially, so we’ll have to think of ways to make money to cover the costs. I can call in some favours.”

“I can probably rope in help from the town. The local paper would promote it. That’s where Jake used to work.” Abby steepled her hands in front of her face. “Will I have some control? I won’t just be doing your bidding?”

Kane held his hands up. “I’ve learned that lesson. You’ll have creative control, and Raven will help you with bookings of talent and anything else you need.”

Abby breathed out heavily as she looked at him. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Kane grinned. “Do you want to think about it overnight? See how you feel in the morning?”

“No. I’m in. It’s really exciting.”

“It is.” Kane stood. “Okay, I’d better get home. Lots to do in the morning.”

Abby followed him to the door. “Thank you for today, Marcus,” she said. “I appreciate everything you did.”

Kane nodded. “I had a great time. I’ll see you Monday.” He practically flew down the five flights of stairs, his mind a whir of ideas. He felt like he had something to look forward to at last.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Kane start to plan the festival

Abby was sitting in her usual seat in the coffee shop the following Monday. She’d pondered whether to sit at Marcus’s table now they were better acquainted. He’d said she could use it whenever she wanted but it still felt presumptuous, even after what they’d shared with each other in Duluth, and besides, where she was now had more room for Clarke’s stroller.

Duluth had been a revelation all round, and she’d spent a considerable portion of her weekend thinking about it when she should have been writing. Marcus himself had been the biggest surprise, the sense of humour he hid beneath his stern gaze, his sensitivity, and the way he’d known what was at the heart of her, what had upset her when she’d seen him with Clarke.

It was more than just seeing another man with her; it was seeing another future, the thought that there could be someone else in their lives, someone who would love Abby and whom Clarke would call dad. She wasn’t presuming that person would be Marcus – they barely knew each other after all – but seeing him had shown that there could one day be someone, and that thought had frightened her because it would mean letting go, and she wasn’t ready to do that.

Neither was Marcus, from what little she had gleaned from him. He was hiding from something in Minneapolis, something, or more likely someone, who had hurt him so badly he’d left everything behind to get away from the memories. They were different in that respect. Abby clung to her memories of Jake, stayed where they’d made their lives together even though it was terribly painful at times. Marcus was trying to forget, to lock away his history, thinking that out of sight was out of mind. It never was; Abby could tell him that.

It had to be a woman who’d hurt him, the one who was his first family. What had she done to drive him all the way up here? He wasn’t a man to let anything get in his way, and yet here he was, not facing up to his problems, trying to pretend none of it had happened. She must have done some piece of work on him. Abby was desperate to know, but if she pushed him, he might run again, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Abby looked at the clock on the wall; Marcus was over half an hour late. Maybe he’d decided a single mother with a dead husband was more than he could take even as a friend. Nah. He’d wanted a companion as much as she did. He’d be here.

No sooner had she thought those words than the door chimed and he was swept in on an icy gust of wind. He turned and forced the door shut behind him.

“Good heavens!” he said as he hung his coat and scarf on the rack and headed towards Abby. “That wind was stabbing me in the eyes all the way here.”

“All the way from across the road?” said Abby, amused by his frustration with the elements.

“Ah, no. I had other errands to run.” He rested his bag on the table, unclasped it and took out a small bag decorated with owls. “Your laptop, should you choose to accept it.” He slid it towards Abby.

“Thank you.” Abby unzipped the bag and pulled out a small blue Dell laptop. “Take a seat,” she said when she saw that Marcus was still hovering with his hand on his bag.

“I will, but I’ll grab a coffee first.”

Abby examined the laptop while Marcus was at the counter. It was the perfect size and weight. She could fit it inside Clarke’s diaper bag and hardly know it was there.

Kane returned and took his seat, followed by Louisa who had a tray with two coffees, two blueberry muffins and some veggie straws.

“What’s this?” Abby said as Louisa set a cup and a muffin down in front of her.

“A celebration,” said Marcus. “Of our partnership. That is, if you’re still up for organising the Arkadia Falls Spring Festival.”

“I am, yes. I’m really excited about it.”

“To us, then,” said Marcus and he held his cup towards Abby. She clinked hers against his.

“To us.”

“I don’t want to monopolise your writing time when I know you’re close to the end so I thought we’d work on a billable hours basis, that way you can do as much or as little as you want, although I’d need a minimum, say 14 hours per week? How does that sound?”

Two days of regular work and the prospect of more if she wanted sounded wonderful to Abby, who felt a little shell-shocked because it was all becoming real. They were really going to do this, and she was going to be paid for it! “That sounds very fair,” she said.

“I was thinking $50 an hour, that’s our standard consulting fee.”

Abby’s heart thumped against her chest when he said that. She did a quick calculation in her head. She’d earn as much working for one day as she did for the entire week as a substitute teacher. “Fifty dollars an hour? I can’t take that, Marcus. It’s too much.”

“It’s the standard rate,” he said frowning.

“Maybe, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I shouldn’t be paid that much."

“Abby, it’s a contract that we have with consultants. I can’t pay you less than anyone else. There are pay grades, and this is what someone like you would earn. It’s the lowest of the consultancy grades, if that makes you feel better.”

Abby looked at him closely, trying to ascertain if he was taking pity on her. His brown eyes stared back. He seemed annoyed if anything, that she hadn’t just said yes. He probably wasn’t used to people turning down money. “Okay, I understand that. Fifty it is.”

Marcus held out his hand and Abby shook it.

“Excellent,” he said, taking a bite out of his muffin, seemingly unaware he’d just turned Abby’s life upside down. She did more calculations in her head. There were three weeks until Christmas. She could earn enough to buy Clarke some much-needed new clothes and toys and still have plenty to pay the rent into the new year.

“I appreciate this,” said Abby taking a sip of her coffee.

“I’m not easy to work with,” replied Marcus, “so you’ll soon be thinking fifty dollars isn’t enough!”

“I’m no pushover myself.”

Marcus coughed as he swallowed a piece of muffin. “I know that!” He ate the final piece than wiped his fingers on the napkin. “Have you used Microsoft software before?”

Abby was familiar enough with computers and software, even though she hadn’t used one much for a couple of years, but she’d told Marcus she was a Luddite when they were at the festival so he wouldn't know how poor she was, and now there was no getting out of it without exposing the lie. “I’ve used the computer at the library a few times to type some letters,” she said, which was true.

“It’s fairly straightforward. If you get stuck on anything I can help you. Just remember to save everything all the time. I once lost an entire day’s worth of work because I never saved the document and it crashed right at the end.”

“Oh my God that must have been horrendous!”

“I turned the air blue, that’s for sure. I’ve got you an SD card so you can back up your novel as well.” He slid a thin blue piece of plastic across to Abby.

“I have no idea what to do with this,” she said, annoyed with herself for having to keep up this charade. She should just tell him about the money, but she didn’t want his pity or his charity. It wasn’t a huge lie anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Abby nodded, and Marcus scooted his chair around so he was sitting next to her. He booted up the laptop and opened a blank Word document. “If I save this then I can show you how to transfer it to the card.” He saved the document as Abby’s Great American Novel, which made Abby laugh.

“That’s hopeful of you,” she said.

“Until I get to read it I just have to go on blind faith,” he replied, looking at her poignantly.

“I promise once I have the first chapters typed up you can read it.”

“I’ll look forward to that.” He turned, his face mere inches from hers, and even though his reading glasses shaded his dark eyes, Abby could see they were flecked with amber when the light caught them the right way. He had small narrow scars on his cheeks and one on his lip. How did he get those?

“I suppose it’s the least I can do.” She watched his thin lips curve into a smile, creases appearing at the edges, and the amber in his eyes made them glint. She looked away before they pulled her into the depths of his soul. He was an intense man, and she got the feeling she was about to find out just how impassioned he could be.

He turned away, picking up the SD card. “You insert this here and then it shows up on the computer as a folder.” He clicked on the folder when it appeared. “All you have to do then is drag it from here to here.” He manipulated a square on the laptop which moved the cursor, picking up the document and moving it to the card. “If anything goes wrong, you have your written copy and a digital copy.”

“That seems easy enough.”

“It is. Here’s my number if you need anything.” He took his wallet out of his pocket, found a card and handed it to her.

“How are we going to work this, then?” said Abby, her mind blown by the speed with which everything was happening but going along with it because they had less than four months to put an entire festival together.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do I work from home, what do I do, what’s my first step, should I be calling someone? I don’t have any idea what to do!”

“We need ideas and we need a plan. There are some things I have to sort out today, boring things like human resources. Maybe the best thing to do is if you came to my place tomorrow and we can try and get the bare bones of the day down.”

“That... yes that seems fine.” Going to his home meant going to Cottonwood Place, and Abby felt traitorous for even thinking about going somewhere she’d despised for months. He lived there, though, and there was nothing she could do about that. They could hardly conduct business in the coffee shop, and her apartment was too small. She’d have to suck it up and plant a few cottonwood trees somewhere else once spring came. Maybe they could do that as part of the festival?

“Nine o’clock, then?” said Marcus. “It’s Cottonwood Place, apartment 305.”

“Okay.”

“I have to get on with some stuff.” He moved his chair to the other side of the table and Abby thought he would go to his own table but he settled in to it and opened up his laptop. Abby opened her legal pad and stared at it, but no words would come; she was too full of thoughts about the festival, and what it would be like to work with Marcus Kane.

\---

Kane hurried about his apartment, straightening up, putting the remains of last night’s dinner in the trash, hiding the empty bottle of wine in the utility room. He’d hired a new housekeeper a couple of weeks before, so at least the place was clean. Abby’s apartment had been immaculate inside and he wanted to make sure his was up to the same standards. He didn’t want her thinking he was slovenly because he wasn’t, or at least the old Marcus hadn’t been. The new one let too many things go, and that had to stop.

He’d considered wearing his suit, which he usually did to keep himself business-like and prevent any further slide into sloppiness, but it seemed unnecessary when there would be someone else here, and over the top for Abby’s more casual attitude to clothing. Instead he was wearing black jeans and a white shirt with no tie. He’d opened the shirt at the collar, and then as he looked at himself in the mirror he undid a second button and then a third. Now he looked smart but casual. He gelled his hair into place and then appraised himself one more time. “You’ll do”, he said.

The intercom buzzed at two minutes to nine and Kane had one last look around before answering.

Abby’s low voice growled through the speaker. “It’s Abby.”

“I’ll be right down. Stay there.” Kane buzzed her into the lobby then went out into the hall to call the elevator before remembering he was using the stairs to get fitter. He ran down the three flights, slowing his descent on the last set so he wouldn’t be out of breath when he saw Abby. She was wrapped up against the cold in her grey coat and blue bobble hat. Clarke was hidden behind a plastic cover which Abby was bending to remove.

“Morning,” Kane said.

“Morning.” Abby pulled the cover back then straightened to look at Kane.

“Hello, Clarke,” said Kane, leaning towards the child in the stroller. Clarke stuck her bottom lip out and stared back at him.

“She’s not sure what’s going on,” said Abby laughing. “Her routine is disrupted.”

“The coffee shop will be missing you,” Kane said as he pressed the call button on the elevator.

“I called them so they wouldn’t think anything had happened to me.”

“Did you really?” Kane ushered Abby and Clarke into the elevator and pressed for the third floor.

“Yeah, is that weird?”

“You’ve been going there how long now?”

“Ten months now I think roughly.”

“Then they will miss you. I noticed when you were gone for a week a while back.”

Her eyes roamed his face, amused and curious. “Really?”

“Yes. I presumed you were ill.” He omitted telling her he’d been so curious he’d questioned Louisa about her.

“I was working at the school.”

“Ah.” The elevator pinged and the door opened. Kane led Abby down the hallway to his apartment. He held the door while she pushed Clarke through. “You can hang up your coat and things in here.” He showed her the utility room, remembering too late that a row of empty bottles sat on the worksurface. He waited for her to comment but she didn’t.

When she returned to the living area he saw she had forgone the scruffy sweater and slacks and looked lovely in dark blue jeans and a grey V-neck top. Her hair was neatly braided and hung over one shoulder. She took Clarke from the stroller and peeled off her snowsuit. She was dressed like her mother in dark blue pants but with a white top with ‘Unicorns Exist’ written above a picture of the mythical creature. Abby set her down and she wobbled along Kane’s wooden floor, laughing to herself.

“She’ll explore now,” said Abby.

Kane watched Clarke for a moment. It was strange to see a child in his house, to hear her unfettered joy. Her life was simple and happy, safe in her mother’s love and protection. He envied her.

“Can I get you a coffee?” he said, turning to Abby who was watching Clarke with pride.

“Of course. What do you have?”

“I have a complicated machine that does lots of things but so far I’ve only mastered an Americano or cappuccino.”

“Americano is fine, thank you.”

Abby followed him into the kitchen, running her hand over the black marble worksurfaces, taking everything in. Kane was acutely conscious of how it must look through her eyes. Large and ostentatious with its huge double fridge too big for one person, and its multitude of appliances most of which he couldn’t work. He used the oven and microwave mostly, same as she did. The only other thing he’d partly figured out was the coffee machine.

“You have a beautiful home,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said. “I can’t take any credit for it; the only personal thing is the painting over the fireplace I bought when I arrived.”

“Oh, I noticed that. It’s the river here.”

“Yes.”

“Painted by my friend at the school, Jacapo Sinclair, if I’m not mistaken.”

“It is by a local artist, Sinclair, yes. You know him?”

“I know most people in the town. I was born here, so it’s hard not to.”

“I felt like that about Minneapolis. Even though it’s a big city, and my family’s from Edina.”

“Edina? Oh, very nice.” Abby interjected.

“You know it?”

“No, but I know it’s one of the nicer suburbs.”

“Richer, you mean,” said Kane grinning. “Well, despite living out there, with the family name being well-known and moving in the same circles you feel like you know everybody and everybody knows you.”

“That can be good and bad,” said Abby, blowing on the coffee Kane had handed her.

“Yes. Does Clarke need anything?” he said, changing the subject before it got too personal.

“No, she’s fine. I’ve got everything she needs in my bag.”

“Shall we make a start on the day’s work, then?”

“Yes!”

Kane led Abby into the dining room which he’d set up as an office because his study wasn’t big enough for two of them to work in. Abby shut the door so Clarke could run around and she could keep an eye on her.

“She’ll sit quietly most of the time,” she said to Kane as she emptied a bag of toys in front of Clarke who promptly sat down and started playing.

“Whatever she needs is fine.”

Abby put the laptop bag he’d bought her on the table next to Kane’s and pulled out her laptop. Kane had bought her that as well, but he didn’t want her to know so he’d told her it was his spare. He’d been into the town the previous morning to buy it then hurriedly put some unimportant documents on it to make it seem like he used it. It was why he’d been late to the coffee shop. He felt bad about doing it on one level, because she wouldn’t like to be deceived, but there was no way she’d have accepted it otherwise. Of course, then he’d offered her a job and could have legitimately given her a laptop, but he hadn’t known that at the time. Speaking of...

“There’s a few admin things to get out of the way before we start,” he said as he settled into a seat next to her. “I have a contract for you to sign, and a form to complete with your bank details etc so that we can pay you.” He handed the paperwork to Abby who started to read it. “Anything you’re not happy with just say. It’s standard stuff.” He waited while she read the contract.

“That seems fine to me,” she said, signing her name where he’d marked with a big looping flourish. She completed the bank details form and returned that to him as well.

“Thank you. Now, you only gave me your landline number so I’m assuming you don’t have a cell phone?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I don’t expect you to use your personal phone for work, so if it’s okay with you I’d like to ask Raven to send you one from Minneapolis.”

“That make sense, but I don’t mind using my phone. You’re already paying me so much.”

“Abby, once this gets going people will be calling you at all times. You don’t want to be answering the phone on days you’re not working.”

“Oh, that’s true. Yes, okay. A phone would be great.”

“If you want, you can organise it yourself as your first job. I’ll give you Raven’s details and you can sort out all the things you need between you.”

“Okay,” said Abby. She looked apprehensive and Kane knew this was a lot to be putting on her shoulders. Five days ago her future was her usual routine with the hope of a day’s work here and there. Now she had a well-paid job working for a virtual stranger. It must be overwhelming, but he had to get this stuff out of the way.

“One last thing,” he said, smiling reassuringly. “Your laptop is set up ready to access the internet, but I’m guessing being a Luddite you don’t have a service provider at home?”

“I don’t, sorry. I’m a pain in the ass, aren’t I?” She smiled ruefully.

“Only a minor pain, and it is all easily solved.” Kane raised an eyebrow to show he was joking.

“I think the coffee shop has free wi-fi. I can use that while I’m there.”

“I can arrange for your home to be connected, if you want.”

Abby shook her head. “No. I think I can manage. Maybe if it doesn’t work we can revisit it.”

“No problem.” Kane wasn’t sure why she didn’t want him to set her up with the internet, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. “Your phone will be able to access it and your emails anyway, not that I expect you to work at night, unless it’s convenient.”

“I’m sure it will work out fine.”

“Yes, and you will probably work here with me some of the time, anyway, if you can stand it.”

Abby laughed softly. “Time will tell.”

“Okay,” said Kane, keen to move on to the fun part of the day. “Let’s get some thoughts down about the festival.”


	13. Chapter 13

Abby sat next to Marcus, her new laptop open, a blank document staring at her. Marcus was looking at her expectantly and her mind was completely empty. She was overwhelmed to even be in this position, on his payroll, in his home. He was paying her to come up with ideas and she didn’t want to disappoint him but the pressure was huge. Think, Abby. Think. She looked down at Clarke who was playing happily in the corner of the room.

“You said you wanted it to be a family event?”

“That’s right.”

“We need to cater for all age ranges, from Clarke up to parents and carers.”

“I don’t really know what kids Clarke’s age like.”

“Most kids like visual things, and sounds, funny noises. Stories.”

“But they don’t have a big attention span, do they? They’re always running off, at least that’s what I’ve noticed when we have events in the bookstore.”

“Maybe that’s where your idea of a moving storytelling comes in. It’s like a stroller walk but you follow the action around. They can’t get bored then because there’s always something new, and it would suit all ages. Imagine if you had like a Wind in the Willows riverbank story actually along the riverbank? With Toad and Ratty and Mole telling the story.”

“Someone could be in a rowing boat,” said Marcus, and his eyes were wide and sparkling with excitement.

“Yes! Oh, it would be awesome!”

“It would.” He frowned.

“What?”

“What if the weather is crap. It’s April, it could be doing anything.”

That was a potential problem. “Does it matter? It’s northern Minnesota. We’re used to all kinds of weather. Doesn’t stop us.”

“That’s certainly true of you,” Marcus said.

“Ah, the indomitable Abby you admire so much.” She looked up at him to see how he would take that remark.

“I do,” he said, holding her gaze for a long second, then turning back to his pad to make notes. “This is great stuff, Abby.”

Abby was pleased, even though it had been his idea originally. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person who was proprietorial over their ideas and that suited her, because she enjoyed working in collaboration, and hadn’t had the opportunity to do it for a long time now.

“So we have a roving storytelling along the river. We’ll have to do a traditional lecture or two, so we’ll need a tent.” Marcus scribbled on his notepad and Abby did the same, not sure whether she would be delegated these tasks but wanting to be ready just in case.

Abby sucked the end of her pen and then pulled it out of her mouth. “You know we were thinking about how to make money to cover the costs?”

“I do. Do you have an idea?”

“Well, what if we have pop up food and drink tents, charge for the pitch, either an upfront fee or a percentage of the profits? That would cover catering.”

“That’s good, but we need to think about where these are going to be, the cost of hiring the ground.”

“Hmmm.” Abby thought through all the spaces in Arkadia Falls that would be suitable for holding an event like this. There was one that stood out, but it would mean having to go back to Jake’s place of work, see his old colleagues, which she hadn’t done since the funeral. It would be perfect but she didn’t know if she wanted to tell Marcus about it because once that can of worms was opened, there was no going back. She sat, agonising, while Marcus bent his dark head over the paper and made notes in his small neat handwriting. Screw it. This was a positive thing, a good reason for going to see them. You can do this!

“Erm, there is somewhere potentially,” she said. “It might not cost too much.”

Marcus raised his head, fixed his deep gaze on her. “Where’s that?”

“Jake’s boss at the newspaper, he owns land where the hockey team play. It’s a good size, big enough for an event tent and the food stalls.”

“Where is that?”

“North of the river from here. It would be easy to start the river walk from there as well, and we could loop around either up both sides of the river or through into town.”

Marcus studied her. “You don’t mind talking to him about it?”

“No. I. No, it will be fine. I should see him anyway; it’s been a while.”

“I don’t mind doing it if you prefer.”

“No. You’re paying me to do it. I want to.”

“Okay. So we’ve got lecture tent, food and drink stalls, a river story telling walk.”

“Crafts and books as well. Presumably Kane and Co will want a stall to promote the store?”

“Yes, it will help with trying to get a branch in the university. I can work on that.” He rubbed his chin. “I guess we need a date.”

“Not too late into April,” said Abby, who was keen to keep the date as far away from Jake’s anniversary as she could.

“Why not?” said Marcus.

“It’s. Well, it’s the anniversary, you know, of the accident.” She went cold as she said those words, her chest tightening.

“Ah, I see.” He didn’t look at her too closely, just a quick glance then he opened his computer diary. “I was thinking earlier,” he said, and Abby was so grateful to him for not making a big deal out of it that a tear formed in her eye. She brushed it away.

“I think a weekend would attract more people,” she said.

“I agree. What about the eleventh of April? Is that, erm, sufficiently distant?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Okay, so that would work then, for you?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He clicked on his calendar and a second later a ping noise happened on Abby’s laptop. “That’s your email,” Marcus said.

“Oh, right.” Marcus pointed to a programme and Abby clicked it. An inbox opened and there were a few unread emails mainly admin ones from Kane and Co and the one from Marcus which was a calendar request. She had her own email address at his company: a.griffin@kaneandco.

“Double click on that,” Marcus said.

“It’s okay, I know how to open an email,” said Abby.

“Oh, right. I thought you said you were a luddite. I guess I figured you didn’t know much about computers.”

Shit. She’d forgotten she’d said that. “I erm, yes. Well, I have used them in the past. It’s just. Money’s a bit tight, you know.”

“Yes, I see. Okay, well let’s agree that I won’t explain anything but if you don’t understand you just ask. Does that sound okay?”

“That sounds great.” Abby relaxed again.

“I think we deserve another coffee.” Marcus stood and picked up their coffee cups. “Why don’t you give Raven a call while I’m gone. She’s expecting you.” He passed his phone to her.

“Okay.” Abby smiled at him, but she felt some trepidation at the prospect of speaking to his secretary. She sounded ridiculously efficient. Abby pictured an older woman with her hair in a tight bun. She probably called Marcus Mr Kane and brought him his coffee and a cake every day or used to when he was there.

Abby took the opportunity to pick Clarke up and give her a cuddle and a snack and cradled her daughter in her lap while she scrolled through Marcus’s contacts to find Raven. She was there between Charles Pike and someone called Rebecca. She hit the button and a young voice answered straight away.

“Kane and Co. How may I help you?”

“Oh, hi. I’m looking to speak with Raven Reyes.”

“This is Raven,” the girl said in a bright voice.

“This is Abby Griffin. Erm, Marcus Kane said you were expecting me to call?”

“Oh, hi, Abby! Yes, I’ve been looking forward to speaking to you. How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks. How are you?” Raven’s tone was warm and welcoming and Abby relaxed. Clarke sucked on a carrot stick and then burped.

“I’m fine, thank you. What was that?” said Raven, a laugh in her voice.

“Oh!” Abby laughed. “That was my daughter, Clarke. That’s how she greets everybody.”

“Awesome,” said Raven. “How old is she?”

“Twenty months now.”

“I bet she’s cute.”

“Most of the time.”

“So, Mr Kane said you were starting with us today, Abby. It’s great to have you at Kane and Co.”

“Thank you. Marcus, erm Mr Kane said to ask you about getting me a cell phone?”

“Yep, I can sort that for you. Can you ask Mr Kane to scan all your paperwork in and send it to me? He has this fancy scanner printer thing up there he claims to know how to work.”

“I will do. Can I ask, if it’s not too bold, why you call him Mr Kane? Is the company very formal?” When she’d first met Marcus Abby wouldn’t have been surprised that he was called Mr Kane by his staff, but now she knew him better it seemed at odds with the man who liked to joke and who had hired her pretty much on a whim. Was it something he expected? Would she be expected to call it him while they were at work?

“No it’s not too bold. You can ask me anything. I suppose the company is old-fashioned in some ways. It’s family-owned, so it has traditions, and this is one of them. Mr Kane’s father was Mr Kane and his grandfather, who founded the company was the original Mr Kane. If the current Mr Kane had a son then he would be called the same when he took over, or his daughter I suppose, would be Miss Kane. I don’t know what will happen now,” she said with a soft sigh.

“Why’s that?” said Abby, curious to see what Raven would reveal.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Raven’s tone was light but Abby figured she’d realised she’d let something slip that she shouldn’t have. She was obviously loyal to Marcus, and worried about him or the company or both probably. “So, is there anything else I can help you with, Abby?”

Marcus returned at that moment with their coffees and a plate of cookies. He set them down between them and looked at Abby as if to check how everything was going. She smiled to reassure him.

“As you know I’m organising the festival with Mr Kane and I wondered if I’d be able to pick your brains some time about contacts and who best to invite etcetera?”

“That would be fine. Email me with some dates you’re free and we’ll set up a video call.”

“Okay. Thanks, Raven.”

“Bye, Abby.”

Abby handed his phone back to Marcus. “You’re going to make me fat if you keep feeding me like this,” she said, looking at the mound of chocolate cookies on the plate.

“First day privilege,” said Marcus. “After this, food is given only if it is earned.” He gave her that deadpan look he’d clearly perfected over the years, and Abby kept a straight face as she replied.

“A happy worker is a diligent worker,” she said, emphasising the word he hadn’t liked to be called when she’d last used it.

“I told you I don’t like diligent. That’s not what I’m looking for.”

“What are you looking for, then?” said Abby, aware from the mischievous look in Marcus’s eyes that she was about to fall into a trap she’d made for herself.

“For you to blow me away,” he said, and he stared straight into her eyes, before looking away and taking a bite of a cookie. He looked back, saw she was still staring at him, and smiled.

“Prepare to be blown,” said Abby smugly, before realising what she’d said and taking a sharp breath.

Marcus choked on his cookie. “That’s not in the job description,” he spluttered.

Abby laughed so hard Clarke bounced up and down on her knee and promptly threw up a mess of barely digested carrot all over her top and onto the table.

“Oh, God!” said Abby, “I’m sorry!” She looked at Marcus who was shaking his head, still laughing.

“You’re certainly making an impression on your first day,” said Marcus as he returned from the kitchen with a cloth. He wiped up the mess from the table which impressed Abby who was trying to clean the face of a laughing Clarke.

“It’s not funny, Clarke,” she said.

“It is really,” said Marcus. “I’ve never been propositioned and had a child vomit on me at work, or, well ever!”

“I did not proposition you!” said Abby, pulling a clean top out of her bag. “Put your arms up,” she said to Clarke, who ignored her. Abby pulled Clarke’s dirty top over her head and replaced it with a new one that had a smiley face and said, ‘I may look cute, but I’m trouble.’

“You should be wearing a top like that,” said Marcus with a smirk.

Abby narrowed her eyes at him, but inside she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time, and that was happy. It was so easy being here with Marcus. He was kind and funny and he made her troubles disappear, for a while at least. She felt lighter, more like a normal human being, like everybody else. She was Abby Griffin to him, not a grieving widow.

“Shall we get on with what you’re paying me to do?” she said primly, putting Clarke in her stroller to see if she would nap.

“I suppose I’d better get my money’s worth out of you,” Marcus said, and he turned back to his computer, a smile on his face.

Abby was tired when she got home, but pleased with how the day had gone, improper remark and Clarke’s vomit notwithstanding. She had a list of tasks as long as her arm and had already agreed with Marcus that she’d devote three days a week to the job up until Christmas, and then see how it went from there. She was excited to start work the next day on her own. It was the first time she’d had a sense of purpose that wasn’t related to the accident and Jake’s death, and it felt good.


	14. Chapter 14

Two weeks after starting work with Marcus, and only one week before Christmas, Abby received a phone call from her lawyer to tell her there was a court appearance scheduled to discuss some legal technicalities about the case. Abby wasn’t required to attend but she wanted to go. She’d been determined from the start to be at every hearing, to see this through right to the bitter end. She couldn’t help but wonder if the timing was deliberate, right before the Christmas holiday. What could they hope to achieve at this hearing?

It was scheduled for the Friday and as she was working for Kane & Co Monday to Wednesday it suited her to attend. In truth, she’d been working longer hours than she’d been billing the company for, because she enjoyed it, and she’d started spending her Thursdays in the coffee shop in Marcus’s company anyway, sharing a table, supposedly working on her novel but inevitably ending up discussing the festival which was already garnering interest in the literary world.

On the day of the court hearing she sat behind Russell, her lawyer, and listened while issues about some of the evidence were debated, namely the methods used by the investigating officers to gather evidence relating to the skid marks left by both cars at the scene and tyre impressions. She didn’t really understand what they were talking about, but she was glad she was there, because Callie was sitting next to her lawyer, taking notes, nudging him every now and then to make a point or pass on some information, Abby didn’t know. Callie avoided Abby’s eye and Abby did the same. How quickly lifelong friendships could disappear.

Callie had been a bridesmaid at Abby’s wedding to Jake and a few months later Abby had returned the favour. They’d grown up together, achieved all the milestones in life at the same time, apart from having children. Both women had been career-minded, Callie as a doctor and Abby as a teacher, and children had always been something to have later, when the time was right. No one ever told you that the time was never really right, that it marched on quicker than you thought, and that one day you would turn around and wonder where it had gone.

Abby had realised she had to get a move on if she wanted children when another friend had had difficulty conceiving and her OBGYN had blamed it on her age. She was the same age as Abby at the time, thirty-three. Abby and Jake had discussed it that night, and wasted no time forgoing contraception and trying for a much-wanted baby. Clarke had been conceived around the summer solstice, when Jake and Abby had taken a cabin on Balsam Lake in Wisconsin for a long weekend where they’d spent most of the time making love. It was one of the happiest times of Abby’s life.

Now her best friend hated her, and it wasn’t just about the accident, it was about Clarke, and the fact that Abby had her child, a piece of her husband that would mean he would forever live on, and Callie didn’t. These were the choices you made in life, Abby had realised. People could live and die on the smallest of decisions – when to cross the road, whether to take a torch on a winter walk, to take a cell phone, dress appropriately, put your foot down just a little too hard so that your pregnant wife could have your baby in hospital instead of by the side of a snowy Minnesota road. These decisions everyone made in life all the time. To have a baby or not, when to have it. Abby made her decision and Callie didn’t. Jake put his foot down and Callie’s husband Jason did the same. One of them was inattentive. Shattered lives were the result. Was it really anybody’s fault? Well, it wasn’t Jake’s alone, and that was why Abby was fighting.

The case was adjourned until after Christmas with no resolution and Abby felt depressed when she left the courtroom. She didn’t want to go home, and she didn’t want to sit alone in the coffee shop. She pulled out her cell phone, brought up Marcus’s number.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm in Abby’s ear.

“Hi. What are you up to?”

“I’ve been speaking to some caterers. The Smokehouse loves the idea of a pop-up restaurant, and they’re willing to pay what we asked.”

“Oh, that’s great! Well done.”

“Just capitalising on the groundwork you laid. What are you doing?”

“Hanging out with Clarke. I was thinking I might do a recce of the river walk. I have a meeting after Christmas with the theatre group and I wanted to get some thoughts down first, while the weather is good.”

There was a silence for a second on the other end of the phone. “Do you want some company?” said Marcus. “I could do with some fresh air.”

“That would be great.” Abby was relieved. He always knew what she was thinking, what she wanted deep down. It was spooky at times.

“Come to my condo,” he said. “We’ll start from here.”

\---

Kane had detected something in Abby’s voice over the phone that worried him, and when he saw her he knew he’d been right to be concerned. She was pale, with black circles under her eyes and didn’t look as though she’d slept. Her eyes looked red and sore, as though she’d been rubbing them too much. He thought she’d been crying. What had happened? When he’d seen her yesterday morning she’d seemed fine, if a little quieter than usual. Maybe it was because Christmas was around the corner. That had to be a hard time for her. It was hard enough for him, and the person he’d loved wasn’t dead, although on his worst days he wished she was, God forgive him.

“I won’t be a second,” he said as Abby pushed Clarke into his living room.

“That’s okay. Take your time.”

Kane went to the utility room and grabbed his coat and red scarf. He picked up his ascot cap and put it in his pocket in case he needed it later. He hadn’t been out all day so didn’t know whether the cold was survivable or frostbite-inducing.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said, and they headed for the elevator and then out onto the riverside path. The snow was deep but firm, the river plated with ice patches.

Abby had her notebook balanced on the hood of Clarke’s stroller. “Your condo is probably about the halfway point,” Abby said. “And the furthest place the rowing boat could get. After this it’s rocky and there are too many ups and downs.”

She stopped to write some notes, then tucked the notebook into the hood and carried on, forcing Clarke’s stroller over the hard snow.

“Why don’t I push the stroller?” said Kane. “Then you can make notes more easily.”

Abby looked stricken at first as though he’d asked if he could steal Clarke away from her. Maybe it was too fatherly, pushing her child’s stroller. He shouldn’t have asked.

“Erm. Yes. Yes, okay. Thanks.” She moved out of the way so that Kane could take hold of the stroller and he put his hands on the handle and pushed. This was a new one for him, and he could see why Abby had been reluctant to do it. They did look like a family, walking side by side along the river, pushing their baby. It must hurt her in a lot of ways.

“You must have muscles like Popeye pushing this thing all the time,” said Kane in an effort to make light of the situation.

Abby laughed. “It can be very useful as well. I stuff all kinds of things in it, and when you have a hill to go up it can be more of a help than a hindrance.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ve been reading the book, The Wind in the Willows,” said Abby as they walked along. “It will need to be abridged otherwise we’d have to walk halfway to Minneapolis.”

“I thought about that the other day, you know,” said Kane.

“About what?”

“That the Arkadia merges into the Mississippi, and it virtually flows past our headquarters.” He didn’t tell her he’d thought about jumping in and letting his body float all the way.

“Oh, that’s cool. Where is the headquarters?”

“The Warehouse District. My grandfather bought it in the nineteen forties after the war and just before the area started to become popular. It was our first bookstore, although now it’s mainly the admin office. Our flagship bookstore is further up on Hennepin.”

“I have been in your bookstore a few times. It’s one of my favourites. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass,” she said as Kane looked at her quizzically. “It has a traditional feel, which I like.”

“Tradition is very important to Kane and Co.”

“Raven told me that’s why you’re known as Mr Kane. It’s been handed down from father to son.”

“Yes,” said Kane with a sigh. He pushed Clarke faster, rattling over the tree roots that poked through the snow. “Pity it will die with me.”

“What do you mean?” said Abby, walking quickly to keep up with him, and Kane realised he’d been unguarded, revealed more than he’d wanted to at this stage in their friendship.

“Nothing. Just that I don’t have children.”

“There’s plenty of time for that.”

“Yeah,” said Kane, not wanting to talk about this anymore. “So, who’s going to abridge The Wind in the Willows?”

“Well, I thought I could,” said Abby, and that made Kane smile.

“I’m sure you’ll do a great job.” He stopped near a bridge over the river, turned Clarke so she could see some ducks that were braving the ice-free patches of water.

“Ducks!” she said.

“That’s right,” said Kane. “Shall I get her out for a minute?” he said to Abby.

“If you like.”

Kane pulled off her cover, unfastened the strap and took her out of the stroller. He held her against his hip, pointed at the ducks. “Would you like to see Ratty and Toad and Mole on here, Clarke?” he said, and he kissed the hood of her snow suit. He knew he shouldn’t, that it might make Abby upset, but he needed it, just for a moment. Abby must have sensed it, because she didn’t say anything, just stood quietly watching them.

After a minute pointing things out to Clarke, Kane returned her to the stroller and they continued along their way.

\---

Abby walked alongside Marcus who had gone quiet after he’d put Clarke in the stroller. Whatever had happened to him had had a profound effect on him. It can’t have been just a woman breaking his heart. There had to be something else. It seemed obvious to her that he’d wanted children but either he and the woman couldn’t have them or that future had gone along with their relationship. It was all conjecture of course, she didn’t know if there had even been a woman, or a man. No, not a man, not the way he looked at her sometimes.

She’d meant what she’d said about there being plenty of time to have children. He was roughly the same age as Abby but the biological clock didn’t tick for men as quickly as it did for women. He could have kids any time in the future. He had to find a woman young enough, but she doubted a man as handsome and attractive as him would have trouble finding any woman.

No, whatever had happened had been bigger than any of that. She wished he’d tell her, but he was taking his time, and she more than anyone else knew how it felt to be pushed into something you didn’t want to do. It would drive him away.

“That’s the field,” she said, after they’d walked in silence for a while. She pointed to a large area edged with advertising hoardings for local companies. “I finally managed to speak with David Miller at the newspaper yesterday and he’d be happy for us to use the space for the event.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic, Abby.” Marcus stopped the stroller and stared across to the field which was only a hundred yards or so from the river’s edge. “How much does he want for it?”

“Nothing. He’s willing to donate it if we can get him exclusive interviews with some of the authors.” It had taken David Miller a few minutes to convince Abby he wasn’t donating the field out of pity for her and her situation. The field wasn’t in use at the time of the event and he saw an opportunity to get some good copy out of it. That’s what he’d told her at any rate, and she’d chosen to believe him.

“Wow! Okay, well I’m pretty sure we can manage that. Leif Enger has confirmed his attendance. I’m sure he’d be happy to do an interview.”

“You never told me you were asking him!” Abby was shocked and happy to hear this news. “I love Peace Like A River.”

“Me too. I love all his writing. It’s so lyrical.”

“Oh, God yes. Oh, I’m so excited!”

“You can take over negotiations with him if you want. It’s your job anyway; I was going to pass it over to you once I’d landed him.”

Abby’s heart skipped several beats at Marcus’s suggestion. “I’d love that! Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Marcus’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at her. “You’ll do a great job.” He moved off with Clarke and Abby followed.

“This would be the start of the walk, then,” she said.

“Yes, and the end.” They passed the glass-fronted Pizzeria Lola restaurant. The windows were misted up and as Abby looked a hand appeared, rubbing a circle in the mist, and then a small face peered out, smiling at her. She waved, and the child waved back.

“Do you know them?” said Marcus.

“No.”

He laughed softly. “Why don’t we go in and get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have to get back to work?” Abby’s stomach was rumbling and she was surprised to see it was nearly two o’clock when she looked at her watch.

“I am at work. Let’s call it a corporate lunch.”

“Well, I’m paying,” said Abby, who had received her first pay check from Kane & Co and felt like she’d won the lottery.

“The company will pay,” said Marcus as he pushed open the door and manoeuvred Clarke’s stroller through.

“No, it’s my treat.” Abby said this with a tone of finality, and Marcus nodded. He’d learned when not to argue with her after a couple of weeks working together.

They took a table in the corner and Abby took Clarke out of the stroller, depositing her in a highchair between her and Marcus. “Do you want some pizza, baby?” she said as she picked up the menu and perused it.

“Does she eat pizza?” Marcus looked surprised, which Abby couldn’t blame him for. So far he’d only seen Clarke with veggies and the cheese sandwich he’d made for her.

“She loves pizza. She likes cheese but I don’t let her have a lot.”

“Cheese is my downfall,” said Marcus, pulling his glasses from his pocket and wearing them to look at the menu.

“I noticed you had a lot last time I went in your refrigerator.”

“Yes. I try to limit myself, but my willpower has disappeared the last few months.” He patted his stomach. “It’s starting to show.”

“Hardly,” said Abby, amused that he was concerned about his weight when there was barely an ounce of fat on him, not that she’d seen him without clothes of course.

“I’m still a fine specimen of a man,” he said, grinning. “Don’t misunderstand me.”

“Mr Kane thinks a lot of himself, doesn’t he Clarke?” Abby said, and the girl banged on her highchair, causing Abby and Marcus to laugh. “She agrees.”

“What are you thinking of having?” said Marcus.

“I usually have a Margherita, so Clarke can have some.”

“Hmm. What would you have if you didn’t have to think about Clarke?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know.” Abby looked down the menu. “I’d probably have Forager. I love mushrooms.”

“Why don’t I get that and you can have half and we can share the Margherita with Clarke?” Marcus said, looking over his glasses at her.

Abby was taken aback, not that his suggestion was unusual, it was just that she’d got so used to being the only one eating with Clarke the option to have something Abby would really like had never presented itself and didn’t cross her mind. “Erm, yes, okay. That would be great. Are you sure you want that?”

“Of course! It’s like having two pizzas for the price of one.” Marcus took off his glasses and sat back in his chair. “Shall I order that, then?”

“Yes, please, and I’ll have a lemonade and whatever you want to drink.”

He returned from the counter with a lemonade for Abby and something that looked like a glass of beer for himself. It was early afternoon, a little soon to be drinking to Abby’s mind. Not for the first time she wondered if he had an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. She’d noticed the empty wine bottles the first time she’d been to his apartment. They weren’t in the utility room anymore, but she suspected that was because he hid them now that she was at his place more often. There was always white wine in his refrigerator, and bottles of champagne. He wouldn’t be the first person to self-medicate with alcohol after trauma. Jake’s mom did it. Abby had Clarke to provide for, so any spare money went on her not drink or anything else she might be tempted to do to suffocate the pain, help her sleep at night. Marcus didn’t have that motivation.

“The food won’t be long,” he said as he took a sip of the beer. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

“You know, if anyone’s getting fat between the two of us, it’s me,” said Abby, referring to their earlier conversation. “I’ve put on four pounds since I started working for you.”

“And here was I thinking that healthy glow was from your joy at working with me.”

“Well, there’s that too.” Abby fastened a bib around Clarke’s neck in anticipation of the food that would no doubt spill onto it.

When the food arrived, Marcus cut his pizza in half and Abby cut hers into three. They passed the food between them and Abby cut Clarke’s slices smaller and placed them on her tray.

“She’ll get the sauce all over her face now, just watch. She likes to lick it off.” Abby rolled her eyes at Marcus and they both watched as Clarke picked up a slice and plastered it over her nose and mouth, sticking her small pink tongue out to taste it.

“I think that’s the way to eat, really. At what point in life do we stop doing what really gives us joy in favour of meeting social conventions?” Marcus used a knife and fork to cut a piece from his pizza before eating it.

“When we have to start washing ourselves,” said Abby. She cut her pizza into slices then picked one up, curved it and took a big bite. “Mmm, this is good.”

They ate in a comfortable silence for a while. Abby had never been in Pizzeria Lola before, and she liked it. It was a chain, but a small one local to Minnesota, and it had a traditional feel with its small tables covered in red and white chequered tablecloths and genuine family photos on the walls. She could tell they were real because one of the people in them had served Marcus.

“Are you going to take a break from work over Christmas?” said Marcus.

“I think I will. I want to devote some time to the novel, and no one will be around to take my calls anyway.”

“How near the end are you?”

“I’m writing the very exciting and dramatic climax,” Abby said, taking another bite of her pizza. God, the mushrooms were heavenly, or rather earthly. She smiled at her own joke.

“Don’t spoil me!” said Marcus. “Not that I have read anything yet.”

“I’m getting there. I promise.”

“Hmm.” He looked at her as though he didn’t believe he would ever get to read her novel. He would, she just hadn’t had a chance to type much of it up yet.

“Are you working over Christmas?”

“I suppose you could say that. I have to go back to Minneapolis. We have some very traditional events I am obliged to take part in.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.” Abby’s heart sank a little at the news that he wouldn’t be in Arkadia Falls for Christmas, which was silly of her. Had she thought deep down he’d spend the time with her and Clarke? Why the hell would he? He had family and friends at home.

“I’d rather stay here,” he said, glancing at Clarke and then Abby. “But my mother threatened to disown me if I didn’t fulfil my duties, and whilst it is tempting to be free of her, she’s a major shareholder and I’d have to give up the entire company.” He smiled ruefully.

“What are these obligations you’re not keen on fulfilling?”

“Aah. Hmm. Well.” The tips of his ears had gone pink again when he looked up at her, and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. He mumbled something Abby couldn’t catch.

“What’s that?”

Marcus coughed. “I’m playing Santa Claus,” he said, and he looked down at his pizza, made a meal out of cutting it up some more.

“Oh, my God,” said Abby, unable to hide her amusement. “I can’t see it.”

“No, well obviously I have to wear a padded suit, despite the cheese belly.” He forked a piece of pizza into his mouth and chewed on it. “And I have a false beard.”

“I think maybe we ought to make a trip to Minneapolis to see Santa, don’t you, Clarke?”

“Oh, god, no. Please don’t.”

“It can’t be that bad, surely?”

“Not usually, but this year...” He sighed. “Anyway, I’ll have to make the best of it.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re good with kids.”

“Am I?” His face told Abby he was genuinely surprised that she thought that about him.

“Yes. Clarke really likes you.”

Marcus looked at Clarke who was trying to stuff a piece of pizza bigger than her hand into her mouth.

“She has good taste,” he said, proudly. “And she’s a great kid. I like her too.”

“How long will you be gone?” said Abby.

“If my mother has her way, a week. But three or four days at least, probably. There’s a ball thing as well I have to attend.”

“A what?”

“A ball. It’s an annual party for the literati of Minnesota.”

“Oh, my. Do you get dressed up?”

“Not as Santa,” he said. “Erm, it’s black tie so I have a tuxedo suit.”

“Very nice.”

Marcus didn’t look as though he thought the prospect was very nice. “I don’t want to go,” he suddenly blurted.

Abby’s pulsed picked up. Was he going to tell her something? Here, while they were eating pizza? “Why not?” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

“Too many memories.” Marcus picked up some pizza, dangled it in front of Clarke.

“Is it a woman?” Abby said, feeling bold all of a sudden. Her heart was thumping out of her chest now. She didn’t know why, it just seemed like a big deal, that he was finally opening up to her.

Marcus nodded. “My ex-wife, Rebecca.”

Rebecca? The woman after Raven in his phone. He hadn’t got rid of her number then. Was he still clinging to her deep down, to hope? “She’ll be there?”

“I expect so.” Marcus tried to tempt Clarke again. “Don’t you want this last piece, Clarke?” Clarke wrapped her sticky fingers around Marcus’s and took the piece from him, shovelling it into her mouth. “Good girl,” he said, looking up at Abby, a mix of pain and happiness on his face.

“You’ll be okay,” said Abby, which obviously she couldn’t know, but she had to say something. “Clarke and I will be with you in spirit.”

The look Marcus gave her nearly broke what was left of her heart. Gratitude, pain, turmoil, and something else, something she hadn’t seen in a long time, and wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. Her stomach did a somersault.

“That means a lot,” Marcus said quietly. He looked at his watch. “I should go. I have a few things to do before close of play.” He stood, started to pull his coat on.

He was running away from what he’d told her or wanted to go before he said any more. Abby started to stand as well.

“No, don’t rush,” Marcus said. “I’ll just head back down the river.”

Abby stood anyway. “Will I see you before you leave?”

“I’ll probably head down Monday, so I guess not.” He fastened his coat.

This all felt very abrupt, and Abby couldn’t help thinking it was because of the conversation they’d just had. Why couldn’t he tell her the full story? He knew about Jake, knew she understood sadness and grief. Maybe he thought it would be too much for her, or that his story couldn’t compare to hers. She’d had that before, people not wanting to moan or whinge about their lives because what problem could compete with a husband killed in a car crash, and a baby born to a mother at death’s door?

“Well, I hope the Santa thing goes well. You’d better take a selfie. I want to see you in your outfit.”

Marcus smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

Abby moved out from the table and stood facing him. She wanted to pull him into her arms, comfort him with a hug. She didn’t move. “Happy Christmas, Marcus.”

“Happy Christmas, Abby.” He went over to Clarke, bent, and kissed her head. “Merry Christmas, Clarke. Be good for your mama.”

“Call in for a Christmas drink when you get back,” Abby said as he turned towards the door.

“I will. Bye.” Marcus left and Abby returned to her seat.

“We need to help Marcus,” she said to Clarke. “He’s a lost soul.” She was concerned about him, worried about his mood which was dark. He was depressed, she recognised the signs because she’d been there, was suffering herself although her moods were more even now than they’d been in the first few months after Jake’s death. Marcus was in the centre of the black hole, that much was obvious. She had to help him, or he would be swallowed up.


	15. Chapter 15

“Perfect, Marcus!” Vera Kane clapped her hands as Kane stood in front of her, adjusting the belt of his Santa suit.

“I look ridiculous,” he said, like he did every year.

“You look wonderful. A very handsome Santa Claus.” Vera kissed his cheek, the only part of his face that was visible beneath his white hair and beard.

They were in his office at Kane & Co’s flagship bookstore on Hennepin Avenue on Christmas Eve. In a few minutes Kane had to go downstairs and act happy and jovial and make the kids who were queuing to see him feel the same. It was a tough ask, because he’d been in a foul mood since he’d left Abby in the pizzeria last Friday.

It wasn’t her fault; it was his. He was mad with himself for leaving her like that. He’d brought the subject of Rebecca up and when she’d gently questioned him and tried to support him he’d chickened out like the lameass cowardly idiot he was. It was his pride, his stupid conceit! He didn’t want her to know the full truth, to see how he’d been humiliated, made to look a fool. He wanted her to think he was strong and capable, attractive, desirable.

Why? Why did he need that so badly? And why from her? If he wanted someone to hang on his word, look up to him, think he was God’s gift he only had to go down to Human Resources and ask Harper McIntyre out, because she’d been after him for years now. Or he could go downtown, pick up any woman, have something meaningless. Abby was offering him understanding, comfort, friendship. She knew, deep down, what he was, he knew she did. It was in her eyes, and yet he persisted in not letting her in, in trying to keep up his charade and failing spectacularly.

“Goddamn idiot,” he muttered.

“What’s that, Marcus?” Vera turned from the mirror where she was tidying her hair.

“Nothing. Can you take a picture of me?” Kane held his phone out to her, and she took it with a quizzical frown.

“What on earth for?”

“I’m going to use it for my Tinder profile,” he said sarcastically. “Just take it.”

“You’re just like your father was,” Vera said huffily. “Always ordering me around.”

“I’m nothing like dad.”

“Yes, you are. Smile at least! No one wants a grumpy Santa Claus.”

Kane made the effort to smile because he might send this to Abby and he wanted to make her and Clarke laugh if he did.

“There. Happy now?” Vera handed his phone back and Kane looked at the picture.

“Ecstatic,” he said to his mother, but in truth the picture was making him happier, or rather the thought of what Abby would think when she saw it was.

“Let’s get this over with.” Vera opened the door and Kane squeezed through the gap, his girth making it difficult to manoeuvre easily.

Downstairs the main room was decorated festively with swathes of red and green ribbons and bows. Snowflakes and ice crystals hung from the ceiling, a miniature village dusted with snow sat in the corner near the window and small children were peeking in the windows to look at the figures inside. Employees dressed as literary characters wandered the aisles, served the customers.

In the centre of the room was a huge Christmas tree festooned in red and gold baubles, bows and fake candles. A large throne-shaped chair sat next to it and there was a line of excited children snaking round the tree and almost to the door. Kane sighed. That was a lot of kids. He took a deep breath, hitched up his trousers, patted his belly. He thought about Clarke, how excited she would be to see Santa Claus, and he smiled.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” he shouted as he walked towards the throne.

Excitement rippled through the line. “It’s Santa Claus!”

“Merry Christmas everybody!” said Kane in the deep voice he reserved for this occasion. He’d have a sore throat later, but it was what people expected.

He sat on the throne and the first child came excitedly towards him and plonked themselves on his lap. It was a girl who looked to be around four. She had dark brown hair, bangs that looked like they’d been cut by someone with astigmatism, and pigtails.

“Hi Santy Claus!” she said, looking up at him with wide eyes. Kane’s starved heart swelled.

“Merry Christmas, erm, Siobhan,” he said, looking at the card his elf helper handed him. “Have you been a good girl?”

“Yes. Have you been good?” she said innocently.

Kane stifled a smile. “Santa Claus is always good. If he’s not his elves shout at him,” he whispered to her.

Siobhan giggled.

“What do you want for Christmas, Siobhan?”

“I want to be a fairy.”

“Oh.” This was a new one. “I will see what I can do. Here’s a gift for you.” He handed the child the package given him by his helper. “Don’t open it until tomorrow.” All the gifts were books, of course, age appropriate based on the information given to the elves.

“Thank you, Santy.” Siobhan smiled at him and was led away, looking back at him all the time.

Kane waved, and then the next child was thrust towards him, crying, by his desperate mother.

“Merry Christmas, Patrick,” said Kane, and Patrick bawled in response. Kane sighed. It would be a long day.

He was so tired when he got back to the family home in Edina he fell asleep fully-clothed on his old bed, the picture of him in his Santa suit forgotten in his phone.

\---

Abby spent Christmas Eve pushing through the last-minute Christmas shoppers to buy some final gifts for Clarke. It was her daughter’s second Christmas, but as Abby hadn’t celebrated last year, it felt like the first one. It was nice to have some money in her pocket, and she browsed a few adult clothes shops, thinking she might treat herself. She found a red dress with a plunging neckline and when she tried it on the shop assistant clapped when she came out of the dressing room.

“You look beautiful, Mrs Griffin,” she said.

“Thanks, Amy.” The girl was one of her students from the class that graduated the year before the accident. “I don’t know if I should get it.”

“Why not? You look great. The colour really suits you. It brings out your eyes.”

“You don’t think it’s too revealing?” Abby looked down at her cleavage, which was very much on display.

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it. That’s what they say, hey?”

“I guess.” Abby fingered Jake’s ring which nestled in the vee of her breasts. What was she looking at a dress like this for? It wasn’t as though she ever went anywhere she could wear it, and there was no one to flaunt her assets to, was there?

“I don’t think it’s for me,” she said, and she reluctantly changed back into her slacks and handed the dress to Amy.

“I’ll keep it to one side for a bit in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t, but thanks.”

Abby continued shopping, bought a bottle of wine in case Marcus kept his promise and visited for a Christmas drink. The dress was on her mind, and she knew as she pushed Clarke around town that she was going to go back and buy it. It wouldn’t hurt, and it wasn’t a lot of money. If she wanted to she could dress up in it and have dinner with her favourite companion, Clarke. Who was to stop her?

Amy smiled when she handed Abby the bag containing the dress. “I hope you get to wear it somewhere special,” she said.

“Maybe one day,” said Abby.

At home later, with the dress hanging in her small closet and Marcus’s bottle of wine in the cupboard, Abby sat on the floor and wrapped Clarke’s presents. Clarke was sitting in her playpen banging bricks together and laughing at the noise.

Her cell phone buzzed with a text and she picked it up eagerly, hoping it was the picture Marcus had said he might send, but it was from one of the authors they’d invited to the festival, confirming her attendance. Abby put the phone back down, then got out her laptop. She’d finished the first draft of her novel the day before, an event she’d celebrated with a coffee and a donut at the coffee shop where she’d first started writing it just under a year ago. Now she was starting the laborious task of typing it up, but she figured she could edit as she went, and it would serve as a second draft, so the time wouldn’t be wasted.

After half an hour her phone rang. It was Raven Reyes.

“Hi Raven,” she said. “What are you doing still working?”

“Oh, we have a big event on here today.”

“Of course, Mr Kane is Santa Claus, isn’t he?”

“He is. It’s our annual tradition.”

“How is he doing?” said Abby with some trepidation as to the answer. She half-expected Raven to say he hadn’t turned up. What would she do if that was the case?

“I don’t know. I’m stuck in the office but I know he has a lot of customers.

“That’s good.” Abby was relieved. He’d turned up, then, and done his duty. Good for him.

“Listen, I was just ringing for two things. First of all, to give you the great news that Anna Nelson has swapped her other commitments around and can make the festival.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news! Thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem. I’ll send her your way.”

“Thanks.”

“Secondly, I want to wish you and your burpy daughter a happy Christmas.”

Abby’s heart swelled at Raven’s words. “That’s so kind of you. Thank you! Happy Christmas to you. Are you doing anything over the holiday?”

“Well, usually I go skiing, but since my accident that’s out, so me and my boyfriend are taking a cabin and we’ll probably just hang around, you know.”

“I know.” Abby laughed, remembering when she and Jake had hung around a cabin and Clarke had been the result. “I didn’t know you had an accident.”

“Yeah, last year. Busted my leg up pretty bad skiing. Thought I might lose it for a while.”

“Oh, my God! That’s... I’m sorry to hear that, Raven.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like I was ever going to be in the Olympic skiing team. Onwards and upwards as Mr Kane always says.”

“He says that?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t take his own advice though.”

“No, he’s stubborn.”

Raven laughed. “You picked up on that, then.”

“Yes, but I can be stubborn too.”

“He said you were a challenge.”

“Did he?” Abby was surprised, and a little indignant that Marcus had characterised her as such to a colleague.

“Oh, I mean in a good way. Like you challenge him. It’s a good thing, makes him a better person. Well, he doesn’t admit that, but I’ve seen it.” Raven chuckled. “Don’t tell him I said that. I’ve had some eggnog at lunch.”

“I won’t tell him, rest assured.”

“I think you’re good for him. After what that bitch did to him, urgh. Oh, that’s my other line, I’d better go. Merry Christmas, Abby!”

“Merry Christmas, Raven.”

Abby put the phone down and contemplated what Raven had said. Marcus thought she challenged him in a good way; that made Abby happy. It was good for him to be challenged; he did the same for her, and it gave her some meaning, a sense of purpose. She hoped it was the same for him. Raven thought she was good for him, as though they were dating! Was that what people thought down in Minneapolis? Was she the subject of gossip amongst people she had never met?

Raven obviously wasn’t a fan of Rebecca and knew what had happened to Marcus. If another call hadn’t come in maybe she’d have told Abby. No. No. Tempting though it was to ask someone, or even to Google him, she wasn’t going to do it. He’d either tell her or he wouldn’t. It was up to him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No crying on Christmas Day.

Kane woke up in his old bedroom after one of the best night’s sleep he’d had in months. It was amazing what total exhaustion could do. He lay in his bed and looked around the room. It was all very tastefully decorated, to his mother’s requirements, not his. He’d managed to put a film poster onto the wall when he was a teenager, but he remembered Vera telling him it had to be framed. It was still there now, Harrison Ford and Sean Young looking down at him over a futuristic Los Angeles. Had Bladerunner really been his favourite film? He’d taken his first girlfriend to see it; maybe that was why. He couldn’t really remember.

The only other items in the room personal to him were his books. He got up, went over to browse them. He pulled out a battered old copy of Wind in the Willows and flicked through it. One of his favourite books as a child. It made him think of Abby. What was she doing now? A glance at the alarm clock told him it was early, barely seven o’clock. Would she be up already? Maybe, with Clarke. He didn’t know what time children of her age awoke. Damn, he never texted her the Santa picture! He’d do it later, when she was definitely awake.

He showered in his bathroom and dressed in black jeans and a dark grey sweater before making his way downstairs. His mother was in the huge dining kitchen, hard boiling eggs.

“Aah, you’re up,” she said. “Merry Christmas, son.”

Kane kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas, mom.”

“You were wonderful yesterday, Marcus. Everyone said so.”

“Thanks.” Kane went to the refrigerator, poured himself an orange juice. “What are you up to?”

“I’m boiling eggs for tartines. Can you get the smoked salmon out of the refrigerator? And it would be great if you could make up the sauce for the gravad lax.”

Kane returned to the fridge, got the smoked salmon and the cured salmon out and then rummaged in the store cupboard for honey and mustard. “How many people are we feeding?”

“Martin’s coming with his brood, and Stephen has a new girlfriend so I guess she’ll be coming.”

Martin was Kane’s Chief Financial Officer; he was also Vera’s brother, father of three including Stephen, and grandfather to at least seven children at last count.

“Fenella has had another baby,” said Vera.

Make that eight grandchildren. Kane whisked the honey and mustard together. He used to love Christmas mornings, everyone around the huge dining table, sharing the Scandinavian breakfast Vera only ever prepared on Christmas. The rest of the year she forgot her heritage. Last year he and Rebecca had been newlyweds, and he’d thought that this Christmas they might be balancing out their side of the family with a baby of their own. Ha!

“What’s funny, Marcus?”

Vera was looking at him, knife in hand. He must have laughed out loud. “I was just thinking about some of the kids yesterday,” he lied.

“That one who peed on you!”

“It was a good job we were near the end of the day.” He passed the sauce to Vera who was slicing rye bread.

“How’s your festival coming along?”

“Good. Leif Enger is coming, and Raven told me last night that Anna Nelson can attend. She’s switched her schedule around to make it, so that shows there’s interest.”

“Of course there is! It’s a Kane and Co event. Your grandfather practically invented the literary festival in Minnesota.”

Kane smiled as he combined the gravad lax ingredients on a large platter. His mother always made this claim, which was far from true, but she liked to think they were the biggest and best booksellers in the Midwest, and he wasn’t about to disabuse her.

“It’s coming together nicely,” he said.

“And that woman who is helping you. What’s her name?”

Kane knew Vera was perfectly well aware of Abby’s name; she was using this as a way to start a conversation about her. He’d wondered how long it would be before this happened.

“Abby,” he said. “Abby Griffin.”

“Yes, Abby. Who is she?”

“She’s a teacher and author.”

“Hmm. Her family?”

“I know nothing about her family heritage.” Kane realised as he said this that he actually knew little about Abby apart from her accident and her financial situation. He’d have to remedy that when he got back.

“What does her husband do?” Vera chopped scallions and added them to the smoked salmon and boiled egg tartines.

“She’s widowed.”

“Widowed?” She looked up at him, surprised. “How old is she?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Thirty-six, gosh that’s young.”

“Yes.” Kane waited for the inevitable closer questioning.

“What’s she like?”

“She’s a hard worker.” He moved to the sink, washed the utensils he’d been using.

“Yes, but what is she like personally?” said Vera impatiently.

“She’s intelligent, and kind, and a loving mother. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“She has a child, then?”

“Yes, Clarke. She’s twenty months old.”

“I see. Take these through to the dining room with me.” She picked up two platters and Kane did the same, following her through to the adjoining room. “Are you seeing this Abby?” Vera asked, having finally got around to the question she’d wanted to ask at the start.

“I see her often. She works for me.”

“You know what I mean, Marcus.”

Kane put the platters down and stood with his hands on his hips. “No. I’m not seeing her in that way. She’s a friend, and God knows I need one right now.”

“Okay,” said Vera, looking offended at his tone, but Kane felt defensive about Abby, and he didn’t want her to be the subject of gossip amongst Vera’s chattering friends. He certainly didn’t want knowledge of her to get back to anyone else in his circle.

“Please don’t gossip about Abby and me. It’s not like that,” he said, and then the doorbell rang, and he rushed to answer it so he wouldn’t have to hear his mother’s reply.

Later, Kane sat back on the sofa, two of his cousin’s kids playing at his feet, and took out his phone. He’d been so caught up in the rush of eating and present opening that he’d forgotten to text Abby. He found the photo of him dressed as Santa and wrote her a text.

_Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa Kane wishes you and Clarke a Merry Christmas. Sorry for being an ass last week. Marcus._

He debated whether to send her an X or not. How would she interpret it? They’d never kissed, even on the cheek, hell had barely touched each other. Best not. He pressed send, and then got up to get more champagne from the kitchen. He was going to spend the rest of the day getting drunk.

\---

Abby and Clarke were up early Christmas morning, and by seven o’clock Clarke was bathed and dressed in a Santa outfit Abby had found while shopping, and Abby was showered and dressed in her grey jeans and a white blouse she’d treated herself to when she’d bought the red dress. She braided her hair and stuck a Santa hat on Clarke’s head before taking some photos of her daughter while the outfit was still clean. She took a selfie of them both together as well, and one with the picture of Jake in the background.

“Merry Christmas to daddy,” she said as she pressed a kiss to Clarke’s cheek. She blinked back the tears that were forming. No crying on Christmas Day. “Let’s see what Santa Claus has brought you!” she said to an oblivious Clarke.

They walked through to the living room and Abby sat Clarke next to the small tree. There were more presents beneath it than she could have imagined Clarke would have, thanks to her job at Kane & Co. Abby handed them to Clarke who grabbed at them and together they tore off the paper.

After ten minutes they were surrounded by wrapping paper and there were only two presents left. One was labelled Abby and the other Mommy. She opened the one labelled Mommy first. It was a small notebook bound in leather with a small gold clasp. A note inside said ‘Keep writing, Mommy. Merry Christmas, love Clarke.’ Abby recognised Sandra Griffin’s handwriting and she smiled. How lovely of her to send something on Clarke’s behalf.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, and she kissed Clarke’s hair, which was uncovered because she’d taken off her hat already.

The second present was also off Sandra, and was a voucher for an online bookseller, not Kane & Co, which wasn’t surprising. Sandra didn’t know about Abby’s job with them. She had yet to tell her, was nervous about doing so for some reason, which was silly, because Sandra would be happy to know that Abby was earning money for herself and Clarke. She looked at her watch. It was seven thirty, so one thirty in Germany. She’d call her now.

Abby dialled the number and put the phone on handsfree.

“Is that my favourite girls?” said Sandra by way of greeting.

“It is! Merry Christmas, grandma,” said Abby.

“Merry Christmas Abby and Clarke. How are you both?”

“We’re doing fine. How are you, Sandra?”

“I’m okay. Sherrilyn is here, we’re having cocktails.”

“Sounds lovely. Thanks so much for the notebook and voucher. It was really sweet of you to send it from Clarke. I loved that.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, sweetheart. I only wish I could do more.”

“It’s perfect. Did you get our gift?”

“I did. The scarf is beautiful. I’m wearing it now.”

“Oh, good.”

“What are you doing today? Do you have plans?”

“I’m heading downstairs to Mrs Larson’s later. She’s invited us for Christmas dinner.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” said Sandra, her voice starting to crack. “I was worried you’d be on your own.”

Abby fought back tears again. “We’re not alone.”

“I’m glad.”

“I have a couple of pieces of good news,” said Abby, her heart rate picking up.

“Oh, what’s that?”

“I finished my novel! Well the first draft at any rate.”

Sandra’s shout of delight was so loud it made Clarke look up in shock. “That’s so wonderful! Aah! Well done, darling. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. There’s still a long way to go but it feels so good.”

“I bet it does.”

“Erm, also, I have got some other work, part time.”

“Great! At the school?”

“No, it’s working for a booksellers, Kane and Co.”

“Aren’t they based in Minneapolis?”

“Yes, they’re headquartered there but they’re trying to open a branch here.”

“And you’re working in the store?” Abby could hear Sandra’s frown in her voice. She probably thought shop work was beneath someone with Abby’s qualifications.

“No. Actually, I’m helping organise a festival in Arkadia Falls. Their CEO has moved up here and erm, well they’re paying me to organise it.”

“Wow! How on earth did that come about.”

Abby swallowed. Why was this so hard to say? It wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong, or that she was dating Marcus. She was working for him that’s all. “I met Marcus, the CEO, in a local coffee shop and we got talking and, you know, there was the book connection so it just kind of happened.”

There was a brief silence on the other hand of the phone. “Marcus?”

“Yes, that’s his name. Marcus Kane.”

“Of Kane and Co, yes.” Another brief silence. “Well, that’s fantastic,” said Sandra. “I’m pleased for you. It’s about time somebody recognised your talents.”

Abby was relieved. “Thank you. It’s just until April, but hopefully the court case will have concluded by then, and everything will be different.”

“I hope so, love. I really do.”

“Okay. Well, we’d better let you get back to your cocktails. Say bye to Grandma, Clarke.”

“Mama!” said Clarke.

“I think that’s as close as you’ll get,” laughed Abby.

“I’ll take it. Have a good day, Abby. I love you both.”

“We love you too. Bye, Sandra.”

She put the phone back on the hook and stared at it for a moment. She felt relieved that she’d told Sandra about the job, and Marcus. It was best to have things out in the open, and there was no need to lie about their relationship, because nothing was happening, and nor would it.

At Mrs Larson’s Abby sat on the sofa with Clarke asleep in her arms. She was stuffed after an enormous Christmas dinner with Mr and Mrs Larson and two of their sons and their partners. Abby had contributed her famous chocolate truffles which had always gone down well in the Griffin household. Clarke still had chocolate around her mouth, after being allowed a small piece as a treat, and Abby hadn’t the energy to wipe it off yet.

The family were watching the original _A Miracle on 34th Street_ and Abby’s eyes were starting to close when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and looked at it. It was from Marcus. She laughed when she saw the picture of him, a forced smile on his face, dressed in his Santa outfit, thumbs tucked into his belt, his belly sticking out.

“What’s that?” said Mrs Larson, who must have heard Abby laugh.

“Just a text from a friend.”

“Okay.” Mrs Larson turned back to the television.

Abby texted Marcus back.

_You must have been eating a lot of cheese! You have competition! Merry Christmas from the Arkadia Falls Santa Claus._

She attached the picture of Clarke in her outfit and sent it to him.

A minute later a text came back.

_She looks better in it than me! Hope you’re having a good day? M_

There was a question mark, so he wanted a response.

_We’re stuffed and lying on Mrs Larson’s sofa. How are you?_

She thought for a moment, then took a selfie of her and Clarke and attached it.

He replied a few seconds later.

_You’re both beautiful stuffed! I’m fine - ferpectly sober!_

He’d attached a selfie of himself, holding a glass of champagne, his eyes deliberately crossed.

Abby stifled a huge laugh that threatened to erupt.

 _Very handsome!_ she texted.

 _Of course!_ he replied.

Abby smiled. Pompous idiot.

 _Enjoy the rest of your day!_ she typed.

Then as an afterthought she added

_X_

and hit send before she could talk herself out of it. He needed to see someone cared, and it was only a friendly kiss, like a peck on the cheek. Nevertheless, her heart raced while she waited to see what he would respond, if anything. A few long seconds went by, and then her phone vibrated.

_You too! X_

Abby smiled again, then saved the pictures he’d sent to her phone so she could show them to Clarke when she woke, and then she let her head fall back and closed her eyes.

\---

Kane woke the next day with a drum and bass band beating a rhythm in his head. He’d drunk too much champagne yesterday and then switched to whiskey sours in a late-night session with his cousin Stephen and his girlfriend whose name Kane couldn’t remember. It was the whiskey sours that had done for him, not the bottle and a half of champagne. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened after ten o’clock. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he searched on the bedside table for his phone, switching it on and checking his text messages. Phew, he hadn’t texted Abby or Rebecca while he was inebriated.

He tried to sit up and his head pounded. Jesus, he was going to die if he tried to get out of bed. He lay back down, turned gingerly onto his side, and tried to get back to sleep.

The next time he woke the headache had lessened and he was able to swing his legs out of bed and head for the shower. He stood for a long time beneath water that was as hot as he could stand it, trying to sweat the alcohol out of him. Never again, he vowed, like he always did.

After his shower he opened his closet to get dressed and saw the tuxedo in its clear plastic wrapping. It was the stupid ball tonight. He didn’t want to go, couldn’t go, but he had to. Kane & Co were giving some prize to a promising new author and he was supposed to be giving a speech. How was he going to do it? A black cloud formed above him, and by the time he got downstairs it had settled and he knew it wouldn’t shift for the rest of the day.

He growled at his mother when she tried to engage him in conversation, retreated to the study to force some breakfast down and read the morning paper online. Bad news everywhere. What was the point of it all? He wanted to turn back time to when his life was simple, when all he cared about was reading as many books from the bookstore as he could, and spent his time arranging the displays so creatively that sales of a little-known book about Minnesota’s wildflowers quadrupled in one week. Of course, that was from nothing to four, but still, it was a success, and had given his father enough confidence to teach him everything about the business before he died, and Kane took over at the tender age of twenty-nine.

He was tired of it all now; it didn’t mean what it used to. There was no joy in spreadsheets and cost-cutting, but these were adult jobs that had to be done. His life was complicated like everyone else’s, and had to be endured, but on days like this, when his black cloud followed him everywhere, it was hard even to endure. There was no chance of happiness, or simple pleasures. Where were they going to come from?

Drinking didn’t help, he knew that. It took his depression and played with it, making him feel good for a few hours and then plunging him from the top of the rollercoaster to the bottom at a dizzying speed. It took more drink to start the climb to happiness again, and sometimes he wondered if he’d ever be able to get off this endless loop of artificial highs and lows. The thought of managing his problems without the comfort of alcohol terrified him, and the fact that he thought that terrified him as well, but he did nothing about it, because he didn’t have the energy or the will.

He got through the day without shouting at his mother, mainly by hiding from her as much as he could, and when the time came to get dressed he put his tuxedo on and dutifully escorted her to his car.

He drove them to the Hilton and dropped Vera at the door while he found a place to park. He got out of the car and walked across to the elevator. He reached the door, and suddenly broke out in a sweat all over his body. His heart was racing so fast he felt sick, and pains shot through his chest. Not again! He clutched his chest and lowered himself to the ground. He was shaking uncontrollably and could hardly breathe. He was going to die, here in a hotel parking lot, alone. 

He tried to force the stale air into his lungs, tasting the oil of car fumes. A well-dressed man and woman came towards him, and the woman knelt by his side.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“It’s my heart,” panted Kane.

The woman looked him over, pressed a hand to his head, put her fingers on his wrist to check his pulse. “Not necessarily,” she said. “I’m a doctor. Try to take deep, slow breaths. You’re okay. I’m here.”

Kane did as she asked, and gradually the pains in his chest subsided. His heart rate slowed, and he started to feel more like himself.

“Does your chest still hurt?” said the woman.

“No. The pains have gone.”

She nodded. “I don’t think it’s your heart, because the pains wouldn’t have gone. I think you’ve had a panic attack. Do you think that’s possible?”

Kane stared at her. A panic attack? What the hell? “Yes,” he said weakly.

“You should go to the hospital anyway, get checked out. Do you want us to drive you?”

“No. I’m fine. I’m fine now. Thank you.” He wanted to get away, that was all he wanted. He stood up, accepting a helping hand from the doctor’s husband.

“Go to the hospital,” she said, and then she called the elevator and disappeared, leaving Kane leaning against the concrete wall, trying to make sense of what had happened.

His body didn’t want him to go to this event any more than his head or his heart did. That was enough of a sign for him. He returned to his car, drove out of the parking lot and headed north.

\---

Abby was watching an old film on the television and was starting to doze when the buzzer startled her into life. Who on earth could that be at this hour? She went to the intercom.

“Hello?”

Silence, and then, “It’s me. It’s Marcus.”

“Marcus?” Abby couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. What the hell was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Minneapolis at least a couple more days.

“Abby...” More silence. Abby thought she heard his breath hitch, but she couldn’t be sure. “I need...”

Abby waited but no further words came. She pressed the buzzer. “Come up.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby finds out what happened to Kane

Abby opened her door to see Marcus leaning forward slightly, one hand against the wall. He was wearing a fancy black suit and white dress shirt. A bow tie hung loose around his neck. His hair was dishevelled, curls hanging down, brushing his eye. He was as white as a sheet.

“I’ve come for that drink,” he said, shaking a bottle of red wine in the air.

Abby frowned. Was he drunk now? How had he got here?

“I’m not drunk,” he said, correctly guessing her thoughts. “Not yet.”

“You’d better come in.” Abby opened the door wider and he brushed past her, went into her kitchen and started opening cupboards.

“Do you have glasses?”

“There are tumblers. Here, let me get them. Go and sit down.” She pushed him out of the kitchen and found two tumblers. She hesitated before pouring herself one but did it anyway. She had the feeling she was going to need it.

When she returned to the living room he was sitting on the sofa so she sat next to him and handed him his glass. He took a large draft.

“What’s happened?”

“I had a panic attack; can you believe it?”

“A what?”

“A panic attack! Thirty-eight years old and afraid of my own shadow.”

“A panic attack is more than being afraid of your shadow. They’re very serious. Are you okay?” Abby reached out, put her hand on his forehead. He was cold. “When did this happen?”

“About three hours ago, in Minneapolis.”

“What?” Abby was shocked to her core. “And you drove up here? You should have seen a doctor.”

“I saw one. She said I’m fine.”

“Oh. Well, you still shouldn’t have driven all this way.”

“I had to. I couldn’t stay there.” He drained his glass and got up, disappearing into the kitchen and then returning with a full glass and the bottle.

“I’ve had panic attacks,” Abby said. “They’re horrible.”

“Have you?” Marcus turned his soulful brown eyes on her. She felt as though he was looking inside her, to see if she was telling the truth.

“Yes. I had a lot after the accident. Sweating, pains in my chest, unable to breathe. I thought I was dying.”

“Yes.” He took another large gulp of his wine. Abby wanted to tell him that drinking wouldn’t help, but if he needed it in order to open up, then maybe it was helpful for this first step.

“What’s happened to you, Marcus? Why won’t you tell me?” She had to get this out of him now. He wanted to tell her, otherwise why drive up here and come straight to see her? He just needed a nudge.

“Because it’s humiliating, and I don’t want you to see me like that.”

Abby sighed. He was a proud man, but he’d already shown her this side of him, he just didn’t realise it, or wouldn’t admit it. She took his hand in hers. “I see you as the kind, funny, clever man you are. Nothing that has happened to you will change that view.”

He looked at her, his eyes searching her face. She sat quietly, let him come to the decision that deep down he’d already made.

“I was married to Rebecca,” he said, having accepted his decision. “Just over a year ago.”

Abby nodded, but she was surprised. She’d thought he must have been married a lot longer than that.

“We’d been together for a couple of years before that, known each other most of our lives, well her life, she was a bit younger than me. Thirty-two, when we married. Her father owns a rival bookstore, King’s.”

“I’ve heard of them,” said Abby.

“Yeah. They’re not as big or well-established as Kane and Co. I was in love with her,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I think deep down I’d been in love with her since I came back from university and she’d changed from this spotty annoying oik to a beautiful young woman. She had a lot of boyfriends, though; didn’t seem interested in me.”

He finished his glass of wine, poured another. That was half the bottle he’d gone through in less than half an hour. Abby stayed quiet. He’d let go of her hand to pour the wine, and he reached out towards her again, so Abby took it, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb while he talked.

“We bought a house in Saint Paul, a beautiful house. She said it was a great place to raise a family. I wanted children, two or three. I’m an only child. I wanted a large family, lots of noise, you know?”

“I do.” Abby had wanted the same thing.

“People don’t think it about me. They think I’m stiff or uptight. That’s just... I don’t find it easy to express my feelings.”

“You’re not uptight; you have a great sense of humour.”

“You thought I was diligent.” He looked pointedly at her.

“You ARE diligent, but you’re a lot of other things as well.”

“Yeah, well anyway, we got married. It was a big affair, made the society papers, everyone who’s anyone in my business was there. I was so happy. We honeymooned in the Maldives. It was magical. We made love all the time. We couldn’t get enough of each other. At least that’s what I thought.”

Abby squeezed his hand. “What happened?”

“I was approached by a journalist a couple of months after we got back. He’d been looking into the collapse of the merger with King’s. He was a financial journalist.”

“What merger with King’s?”

“Oh, I forgot that part. Well about three years ago the company was going through a rough patch, everyone was, and it was mooted that a merger would benefit both our companies. I wasn’t dating Rebecca then, but by the time the merger discussions really got going we were together. We’d seen such a lot of each other, you know. I guess it was inevitable. Anyway, the merger didn’t happen in the end. I won’t bore you with the details, don’t understand all of them myself. My uncle Martin, he’s the financial guy at Kane and Co. He’d be able to tell you.”

Marcus was talking fast now, deviating from his main theme. They must be getting close to the heart of this, to what had really sent him into this downward spiral.

“So what did the financial journalist say?” prompted Abby, to keep him on track.

“He asked me if it was true that my marriage was one of convenience to give the Kings a share in Kane and Co, like a back way into a merger that would get around rules or something that we’d fallen foul of previously.”

“Oh, my God!” Abby knew where this was going now, and her heart swelled and went out to Marcus. She gripped his hand tighter.

“Well, obviously I denied it, because it wasn’t a marriage of convenience. I loved her; we were starting a family.” He ran the hand she wasn’t holding through his hair.

“Did you have a prenup? To protect yourself?”

He shook his head, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Why would I? We were in love; we were two booksellers who understood the business. She would have been a partner in Kane and Co by virtue of being married to me. It never crossed my mind that we’d need something like that.”

“But it was true, what the journalist said? On her part?”

Marcus nodded. “She never loved me. It was a plot she’d devised with her father, to get their hands on Kane and Co. Once we were married they were going to get friendly executives from the Board onside, and plant their own, and stage a takeover. They’d already bribed some of my people.”

“Fuck!” said Abby.

“Yeah. She denied it when I confronted her, but the journalist had proof, emails between her and her father, communications between them both and some of my Board members. She had to admit it in the end. She said I was fun to play with, but she couldn’t bear the thought of living with me and having my children. That was never in her plan. She wanted to divorce me as soon as the coup was complete.”

Abby started crying, she couldn’t help it. Never in all her imaginings about what had happened to Marcus had she expected this. How could anyone be so cruel? She could hardly bear it. How must he have suffered.

“I’m so sorry, Marcus,” she said through her tears.

Tears were flowing down his cheeks now, and Abby reached forward, pulled him into a hug. He sat stiffly for a moment, and then his arms wrapped around her, and he cried into her hair. She put her hands on the back of his head, pressed him to her. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

“Everyone knows,” he whispered into her ear.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, I suppose they do.” She pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head.

Marcus pulled away after a minute, wiped his eyes on the cuff of his shirt. “I got an annulment, based on fraud. Uncle Martin arranged it. I tried to go to work, tried to get on with my life but everyone was looking all the time, staring at me, whispering, giving me pitying looks. I couldn’t bear it.”

“I know how that is. I hear it all the time. There’s the woman whose husband was killed in that terrible accident. That’s the widow. She nearly died, you know. I thought it would stop but it didn’t.”

Marcus looked at her grief-stricken. “How do you do it, Abby? How do you go on?”

“I put one foot in front of the other. That’s how I do it.”

“You’re remarkable,” he said, admiringly.

Abby shook her head. “No. It’s just what we have to do. And I have Clarke. I get up every day for her.”

“I don’t have that,” Marcus said, finishing his glass of wine and pouring another.

“Yes, you do. You have me and Clarke. We’re here for you.”

“I would never ask that of you,” Marcus said, a sob in his voice.

“You don’t have to ask. We’re here already.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, and fresh tears welled in his eyes. He turned away to wipe them. Abby thought he might appreciate a few moments alone, so she got up.

“I’m just going to check on Clarke. I won’t be a minute.”

Marcus nodded, and Abby went into her bedroom and stood by Clarke’s cot. In truth, she needed some time to herself as well. Marcus’s story was overwhelming. She couldn’t believe Rebecca. What kind of person treated another human being like that? She must be heartless. No wonder Raven had called her a bitch. That was too kind a word in Abby’s opinion.

She returned to the living room after a couple of minutes, not wanting Marcus to think she’d run out on him but giving him enough time to compose himself if that was what he wanted to do. He was sitting straighter on the sofa. His tears had gone, though his eyes were red-rimmed. Hers were probably the same.

She sat next to him again. “I’m not going to say you shouldn’t feel ashamed or humiliated, because you feel what you feel and they are really valid responses. I would feel the same, I’m sure.”

“But?” said Marcus with an uncertain frown.

“But I do not see you that way. One of the things I always longed for was someone who didn’t know what happened with Jake or who didn’t treat me like a fragile bird or someone to be pitied. Even after I told you about the accident you treated me like me, like Abby Griffin, not the grieving widow. That meant everything to me. I hope that I can help you feel the same way. You’re still Kane from the coffee shop who was mysterious and intriguing and then Marcus who is funny and kind and generous and caring. That’s who you are to me.”

“Abby...”

“No. Let me finish. Clarke loves you and I... I care for you a great deal. You don’t have to run away from me, from us.”

“Am I still allowed to think you’re remarkable?” he said with a slight smile.

“Just this once,” she said, returning his smile.

“Okay. I need to think about something else for a while,” Marcus said as he drained his glass again. Abby was pleased to see he put it down and didn’t immediately fill it.

“I can put the TV on if you want. There’s a documentary about the Scandinavian influence on Minnesotan culture. We can discuss that.”

“My mother’s family is from Sweden,” said Marcus, settling into the sofa.

“Then we’ll have plenty to talk about.”

They watched the documentary, Abby commenting more than Marcus. She turned at one point to get his thoughts and saw that he’d fallen asleep, his head tilted towards her, resting against the back of the sofa. Abby studied him for a moment. She hadn’t thought there was room in her heart for more heartbreak, or love, but there was, because it was swollen with both right now. She reached out, brushed a curl from his eye, and then she pulled a blanket from the back of the sofa and covered him carefully with it.

“Sleep well,” she whispered, and then she got up and made her way quietly to bed. Clarke was snuffling in her sleep, and Abby listened to the sound of her daughter’s breathing before drifting to sleep herself.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the night before. Will Kane run away again?

Kane woke to darkness. His back was aching and for a while he couldn’t figure out why. His eyes adjusted to the black and he realised he was half lying on a sofa in an unfamiliar room. Someone had covered him with a blanket. Aah, Abby. The previous night came back to him in a rush. Oh, God. He’d told her the whole thing then he’d fallen asleep drunk on her sofa. What the hell must she think of him?

He sat straighter, then eased himself off the sofa. His head didn’t feel too bad so he can’t have drunk that much. He looked down at himself. He was still dressed in his suit, shoes and all. He pulled off his bowtie and stuffed it in his pocket. He made his way carefully to Abby’s kitchen, and once there felt around for the light switch. Flickering fluorescent light assaulted his eyes and made his head throb. He picked up Abby’s kettle, filled it with water and switched it on. Then he rummaged through her cupboards looking for cups and coffee. Her cupboards were bare compared to Kane’s, and he hadn’t stocked up for a while.

He sighed as he spooned instant coffee into two cups and waited for the kettle to boil. What was going to happen now? What did she think of him? Would it be awkward? Was he going to have to move again? God, all this thinking was hurting his head. Just relax, Marcus. Wait and see. He had his head in the fridge looking for milk when he heard the soft padding of footsteps. His heart skipped a beat. Now he’d find out.

He took the milk from the fridge and turned around. Abby was blinking at him in the harsh light. Her hair was loose and sticking up in different directions. She was wearing pale blue pyjamas with dark blue hearts on them.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning. Sorry if I woke you.”

“Are you kidding? I have a baby.” She laughed. “Is that for me?” She pointed at one of the mugs Kane was adding milk to.

“Yes.”

“Lovely,” she said. Kane handed her the cup and she blew on it, took a tentative sip. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yes. My back is a bit sore, but otherwise I feel okay.”

“Are you going to stay for some breakfast? I was going to get Clarke up.”

“Erm, yes, okay. Thank you.”

“Take a seat on the sofa if you can bear it again. I won’t be long.”

Abby disappeared down a small hallway at the back of the apartment. Kane needed the bathroom but didn’t want to disturb her. He waited a while but she didn’t reappear, so he headed down the hallway. There were two doors off it, and he could hear Abby singing to Clarke from behind one of them. He knocked on the door, and Abby opened it, giving him a peek at her bedroom. It was tiny, just enough room for a small double bed and Clarke’s cot which was between one side of the bed and the wall. At the end was a closet and a chest of drawers with a changing mat on top of it.

“Sorry to bother you, but I really need the bathroom.”

“Oh, sure. Hang on.” Abby put Clarke in the cot and the child stood in her diaper, holding onto the bars and staring at Kane.

“Morning, Clarke,” he said.

Abby smiled as she led him to the door next to her room. “Here you go. There are fresh towels in the cupboard so if you want to clean up you can.”

She left him and Kane shut the door. He used the toilet then ran some water in the sink and washed his hands and face. He squeezed toothpaste on his finger and ran it over his teeth. It wouldn’t clean them but it took some of the dry, bitter taste of stale alcohol from his mouth. He studied himself in the mirror. God he looked a state. His eyes were puffy and red, his skin pale. His hair was loose and flopped down in waves that kept falling into his eyes. He opened the cabinet above the sink to see if she had any kind of hair gel, but there was nothing except baby powders, feminine hygiene products and a row of orange medicine bottles. He picked one up, looked at it. Painkillers. Another bottle was labelled Paxil, for anxiety and depression. The bottle hadn’t been opened by the look of it.

Why did she need painkillers? A remnant from the accident perhaps. He shouldn’t be looking through her private things. He shut the door, and then went out into the living room. Clarke was sitting in her playpen and Abby was in the kitchen.

“We usually have toast and strawberry jelly, is that okay for you?” She stood in the door, her hands on her hips.

“Yes, great.” Kane sat on the sofa and took a sip of his coffee, which was bitter. This all felt a bit surreal, like he had woken up in a parallel universe. He felt as though he should go home, stop taking up her time, but he didn’t really want to leave. Not yet. Clarke was playing with a soft toy in the shape of a duck, and that reminded Kane of something.

He got up and went into the kitchen. “I just remembered I have something for you in my car. Is it okay to go and get it?”

Abby looked at him for a long moment. Perhaps she thought he was going to run off. “Take my key so you can let yourself back in,” she said, taking it from a hook and pressing it in his hand.

Kane retrieved the item and huffed back up the stairs, using the key to open the door. He put the package on the sofa. Abby had set the small table up in the kitchen and was sitting at it with Clarke in her highchair. There was a glass of orange juice and a plate with two slices of toast in front of an empty chair. Kane took his suit jacket off, hung it on the back of the seat and sat down. Clarke waved her hands at him.

“Tata,” she said.

“What does that mean?” said Kane, biting into a slice of toast.

“I have no idea.” Abby handed Clarke a piece of toast then looked at Kane. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Sorry about last night.”

“Please don’t be sorry. Don’t go backwards, Marcus. Not now that you’ve told me.”

She always knew what he was thinking, was able to get to the heart of him. He was tempted to go, to move on, to find someplace else where no one knew him, but what would that achieve? She was right, it would be going backwards, and if he was going to do that then he might as well kill himself now and get it over with. She hadn’t done that, when she had more right to leave everything behind than he had. She’d stayed. She was facing up to her pain every day. He had to stop being a coward.

“I won’t,” he said, and then he ate the rest of his toast.

Afterwards they sat in her small living room and he handed her the wooden loon he’d bought in Duluth that he’d wrapped in Christmas paper thinking he’d give it her at some point and then had run away from her.

“I thought you might like this,” he said, and watched as she carefully unwrapped his gift, making the most of it.

“Oh, I love it!” she said as the loon was revealed. She turned it this way and that in her hands, examining every detail. “It’s so good! What kind of wood is it?”

“It’s cottonwood.” Kane was confused when Abby laughed. “What’s funny about that?”

“Nothing in itself, but you know your condominium, Cottonwood Place?”

“Of course.”

“Well, before it was your plush apartment, it was a stand of cottonwood trees. I used to play there when I was a kid.”

“Really?” Kane had never considered the history of his condo; it was just the nicest place to live he could find in Arkadia Falls.

“Yes. I hated that they cut it all down and built the complex.”

“It must be torture for you having to come and work with me there.”

“Not at all. It’s not your fault, or the condo’s.” She ran her fingers over the carving.

“I kind of like the idea of a young Abby playing where I’m now living.” Kane studied her, tried to imagine what she was like as a child. Clarke looked too like Jake to see much of Abby in her. She had her eyes, though; not the colour, but the size, and the direct way of looking at him.

“It’s a nice connection, yes. That makes this even more special, then.” Her smile was broad and warm.

Kane got more pleasure from her reaction than from any of the gifts he’d received on Christmas Day. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do, I love it.” She leant towards him, and Kane moved towards her, and her lips brushed his cheek so softly it was like being kissed by a feather. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I guess you can have your present now then.” She looked at him mischievously and then hunted around in her handbag.

“You’ve got me something?” Kane was surprised.

“Kind of.” She pressed something small into his hand and when he looked it was the SD card he’d given her. “The first ten chapters of my novel,” she said, and looked at him with a mixture of amusement and trepidation.

“Wow! So it really exists then.”

“Yes it exists!” She batted his arm. “I finished it a few days ago.”

“You did! That’s amazing. What an achievement!”

“Thanks.” She glowed with pleasure. “I’m trying to revise as I type it up.”

“I shall read it as soon as I get home,” Kane said, and he slipped it into his pocket.

Abby made space on one of her bookshelves for the loon. “It looks great,” she said.

“It does.” Kane checked his watch. It was only eight thirty, but he felt like he’d stayed long enough. “I should go, get out of these stupid clothes.”

“You look very handsome, doesn’t he Clarke?” Clarke was indifferent, too busy sucking jelly off her fingers.

“I don’t think it’s me anymore,” Kane said as he slipped the jacket on.

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“No, it’s not.” He headed for the door and Abby followed him. He turned as he stepped out into the hallway. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Take care.” She reached towards him, took his hand, rubbed her thumb along the back and squeezed it.

Kane brought her hand to his lips, pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Thank you,” he said, and then he left.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane gives Abby feedback on her novel...

Sunday afternoon, and Abby was sitting in Marcus’s living room, her legs twitching, her fingernails tapping on the mug of coffee he’d given her. Clarke was sitting on a pile of cushions and pillows Marcus had placed on the floor, playing happily with her bricks, bashing them together, the noise of which was starting to get on Abby’s nerves. She didn’t usually bother what noises Clarke made, but she was on edge because Marcus had invited her around to talk about her novel, and she had no idea what he was going to say. Outside snow was falling, and a cold wind blew, but inside Marcus had lit a fire and the room was warm.

“I think we need to invest in a foldable playpen for when you’re here,” Marcus said as he returned to the living room with his own coffee and two cinnamon rolls he’d warmed in the oven. He sat next to Abby on the large sofa and handed her a plate with a roll. Abby didn’t feel like eating, but he’d warmed it especially, so she took a bite, and it was sticky and spicy and she knew she’d polish the whole lot off. Marcus had a flake of the pastry stuck to his lip.

“You have pastry, there, on your lip,” said Abby, pointing to it.

Marcus wiped the opposite side of his face to where she was pointing. “Got it?”

“No, it’s the other side.”

He missed it again, and Abby sighed. “God, it’s right there!” She reached out and wiped it from his lip with her thumb. “Look at the size of it! How could you miss that?” She showed him the flake before sticking her thumb in her mouth and licking it, realising too late that Marcus wasn’t Clarke and she couldn’t just pick food off him and eat it.

Marcus raised his eyebrows at her. “What’s got into you?”

“Nothing. I’m just. Are you going to tell me what you think of this damned novel?”

“Aah.” He smirked, and then put his roll down. He took his glasses out of his pocket and put them on before picking up a notebook from the coffee table. He flipped it open and Abby saw that there were pages of notes in his small dense handwriting.

“Have you written a dissertation?” she said, alarmed at the amount he’d written.

“I probably could,” he said.

“What does THAT mean?”

“Nothing bad, calm down.”

“Sorry, it’s just, no one’s read this except for me and you. I’m nervous.”

Marcus took her hand and squeezed it. “There’s no need to be nervous. I’m really honoured that you let me read these chapters.”

“Did you like it?” Abby said, her heart thumping. Her hand felt sweaty where he was holding it. Could he feel it?

“Yes,” he said, and Abby let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh. Oh, good. Well, that’s great.”

“I have a few comments,” he said, dropping her hand so he could flick through his notebook.

“A few?”

Marcus smiled. “The plot is great. I’m invested and intrigued, and I really like your lead character, Thomas. He’s closed up and although we get his thoughts on the case and other things we don’t find out much about him. I like that there are effectively two mysteries, and I’m wondering if he and the case might be linked in a way we don’t yet understand.”

He looked up at Abby, who arched her eyebrow. “I’m saying nothing,” she said.

“You were right when you said it was dark. Your language is evocative of the character and gives a sense of place. I can see and smell and feel the dark Minnesota nights.”

“Oh, I’m glad you said that, because I really tried to give it a sense of place. I was inspired by that book reading we went to with Anna Nelson. It gave me a lot of ideas.”

“I can see that.” Marcus took a bite of his roll, wiped his lip with his thumb, sucking the crumbs off it. “I think you make some rookie mistakes, though,” he said, and he looked down his glasses at her.

“Oh?” Abby tensed, and a cold shiver of anticipation ran through her.

“Yes. Your descriptions, whilst beautiful and evocative like I said, can be static.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, quite a lot of the time your characters enter a scene and they stand and describe what they see.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Abby felt defensive because she was really proud of the descriptive quality of her work, had spent a lot of time finessing it.

“Well, it pauses the action for one thing. And sometimes it feels as though it’s not how the character sees it but how you the author sees it. You could consider having the character move through the scene and describe, through all their senses, or you can describe through dialogue. I want to feel Thomas’s place in this world he’s in. I think you can be more visceral; I suppose that’s what I’m saying.”

“Hmmm. I thought I had been moving him through the scenes.”

“In some places, yes, but not always. In chapter two, when he’s approaching the body, you do an absolutely fantastic job of evoking the scene, but then in chapter four when he enters the bar it’s more static.”

“I’ll take a look at it.” Abby wasn’t convinced but she couldn’t remember off the top of her head exactly what she’d written in the bar scene, so she’d have to read it through with Marcus’s comments in mind.

“There are other things,” Marcus said, warming to his theme. He flicked onto page two of his notes and Abby felt a mixture of amusement at his earnestness, pleasure at the time he’d taken to give her considered feedback, and annoyance that he was SO damned diligent, and if he was even half right about some of his comments she was going to have a lot of revisions on her hands.

\---

Kane closed the pad when he reached the last page of his notes. “I can leave this with you if you like,” he said. Abby’s cheeks were pink, and he wasn’t sure if that was the warmth of the fire or if she was annoyed with him. He’d been thorough, because he thought she deserved to have time and attention spent on her work but looking at her now she seemed shell-shocked. Had he gone too far?

He cleared his throat. “It’s a good novel, Abby,” he said. “I could give this to Pike now and he’d throw an editor at it and you’d get it published, probably not quite how you’d imagined, but you’d have a book under your name.”

“But?” she said, frowning.

“It has the potential to be great. It IS great in places. Fantastic in fact. I think you just need to open yourself up a little, free your heart, dig a little deeper.”

She looked at him for what felt like a long time. “Yes,” she said at last. “Yes, okay. Thank you.” She took his notes from him and flicked through the pages.

“I want you to succeed, Abby. You have tons of talent and potential. I’m sure you know that.”

She looked up at him almost shyly, her long lashes guarding the depths of her eyes. “I need to take it all in, and it’s hard hearing your baby criticised, like if someone said something about Clarke. I feel defensive.”

“I’m sor...”

She held up her hand to stop him. “But. I really appreciate you telling me the truth as you see it. Lots of people would say nice things to make me happy, but I don’t want nice. I want the truth no matter how hard it is to hear. Thank you for giving me that.”

Kane was relieved that she’d taken that attitude. It was always difficult giving feedback, and he hadn’t had to do it very often to someone he liked and cared for.

“That doesn’t mean I agree with everything you’ve said,” Abby continued, crossing her arms.

“They’re suggestions, that’s all. I’m not always right, but I won’t ever admit that to you again.” He grinned and was rewarded with a warm smile from Abby.

They settled onto the sofa, watching Clarke play. Kane wanted to ask Abby something, but wasn’t sure how she’d react or if she’d want to talk about it. He supposed he’d never know if he didn’t ask, and they were supposed to be moving forward together, being more open. In for a penny...

“Can I ask you something? It’s kind of to do with the novel but also kind of personal.”

Abby put the notebook down, shuffled around so she was sitting facing him. “Go on,” she said.

“Do you think the accident has informed the novel at all?”

“You mean is it dark because I’ve been in a dark place?”

“Yes, I guess.”

She looked up at the ceiling, pulling faces as she thought. “That’s a really good question. I had the idea before the accident, it’s something I’d been toying with for ages but never really devoted any time to it, then after the accident I couldn’t do anything for a long time, I mean not just mentally but physically. I injured my spine and I had an emergency C-section to deliver Clarke and there were injuries in that area as well. I’m a mess of scars,” she said, looking up at him and laughing softly.

Kane didn’t know what to say, because the usual platitudes like I’m sorry, or how terrible, seemed trite, so he stuck to facts. “How did you cope with Clarke and everything else?”

“I didn’t really. Jake’s mom, Sandra, she was wonderful. I mean she’d just lost her only son, and she was grieving, but she stepped in and she looked after us both for months. She lives in Germany, so she had to give up a lot. Then when I could manage alone she went home and the days were so long, and the nights, just me and Clarke, and this overwhelming grief that coloured everything so dark, even Clarke’s milestones, holding her head up for the first time, sitting up, forming something that resembled a word. Everything was tinged with sadness and regret that Jake wouldn’t see it, would never know her. I thought I would go mad. That’s when I started writing and going to the coffee shop. I didn’t think I would be inspired, but it just poured out of me. So yeah, I guess that’s the long answer to your question.” She laughed again. “It has informed the novel in lots of ways.”

“I think it is that honesty in a novel that grips the readers, that separates a good novel from a great novel, because you are revealing to them not only your own soul, but theirs. It resonates on a deep level. It’s a brave author who visits their darkest moments so they can tell the truth.”

“I didn’t have to visit, I was living it, but yeah, I know what you mean.”

“What happened that night?” said Kane, keen to dissolve the last barrier between them.

“I went into labour, and as you know the hospital is in Saint Croy, so Jake drove me there, and the contractions were strong. We thought we were going to have to pull over and I’d have Clarke by the side of the road. I wish we had. I wish that every day.” She wiped a tear from her eye and Kane felt bad about making her relive the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he placed his hand on her knee, wanting to make a connection. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Abby put her hand on top of his. “No, I’m glad you did. I want to tell you. You should know everything. Jake drove faster than the speed limit, not much, but it was dark, and obviously it was a mistake to do it. We rounded a bend and headlights flooded our car and there was a massive bang and that’s all I remember until I woke up a couple of days later and Clarke was in a bassinet by my side. Jake was killed instantly and so was the other driver, who it turned out was the husband of my best friend. He was speeding too.”

“It’s amazing you survived.”

“Indomitable, like you said.” She laced her fingers through his and Kane stroked the backs of them with his thumb.

“I feel terrible about that.”

“Don’t. You couldn’t have known.”

Kane’s stomach flipped when she said that. He’d hoped that having everything out in the open between them would ease his guilt at having snooped on her before he knew her, but of course everything wasn’t out in the open, because that remained a secret. He should tell her, but now they were getting closer, becoming friends, he had too much to lose. He’d just have to try and live with it.

“My best friend, Callie, has taken out a private prosecution against me, or rather against Jake’s estate, blaming him for the accident. It wasn’t him,” she said, fiercely. “Jason, her husband, was veering towards us, not the other way around, but I never wanted to put blame on him. All my assets were frozen by the court, which is why I’m living where I do, why we have nothing. You must have wondered about that?” she said, her brown eyes boring into him.

“I. Erm. Well, I figured it was none of my business,” Kane said, the lie almost sticking in his throat.

“It’s been hard, but we’re making the best of it, aren’t we, Clarke?” At the sound of her name Clarke looked up, then she rolled off her cushions and toddled over to Abby who picked her up, cuddled her tight.

“How can she sue you if it was an accident, if it was her husband who was more at fault?”

“Ah, well.” Abby buried her face in Clarke’s hair for a moment. “I told her it wasn’t Jason’s fault. I was just being kind, because she was grieving as well and we were friends, I wanted to ease her guilt. She was recording me, but I didn’t know it. She says it’s an admission of liability and that’s what my lawyer and I are fighting.”

“You have to go to court on top of everything else?” Kane was astonished at the levels of bravery and courage Abby showed, and you would never know it. She kept it all to herself, quietly going about her life as though everything was... not exactly right, but manageable. He was astounded.

“She keeps delaying things, to make me give up I think, but I’m not giving up. Ever.” She raised her head, her jaw set defiantly, her eyes flashing steel.

“If I can help you at all, you will tell me, won’t you?”

“You are a help already. This has been a big help. I don’t talk about it with anybody except Sandra, so...”

“Anything you need.”

“Thank you. We’re doing good so far.” She bounced Clarke on her knee. “Are you hungry, baby?” Clarke grabbed Abby’s cheeks and planted a wet kiss on her lips. “Aww,” said Abby, and she smiled proudly at Kane.

\---

They watched cartoons with Clarke and Kane walked Abby home because it had gone dark and he wanted to stretch his legs after being inside all day. He carried the stroller up the stairs and Abby stood on the threshold with her daughter in her arms.

“You’re not working the next couple of days, is that right?” said Kane.

Abby nodded. “I have a couple of hospital appointments, just check-ups.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

Abby nodded. “Are you doing anything for New Year?”

Kane grimaced. “Does drinking myself into a stupor count as doing something?”

“If that’s what you want to do.” Abby gave him a disapproving look, which made Kane want to smile and feel guilty at the same time. “Clarke and I are watching a Star Wars marathon if you’d prefer that?”

“The original ones or the abominations that have recently been forced upon us?”

“What do you think?”

“It’s tempting.” Kane was more than tempted. He’d been dreading New Year, even though it was supposed to be about looking forward, putting the past behind him. Last year he’d been on a party boat on the Mississippi with Rebecca and all their friends. This year he hadn’t thought he had much to look forward to, which was why he’d decided to drink so that he didn’t have to think about anything and with any luck he’d stay drunk until well into the first day of January.

“It starts at six. I’ll make my famous Key Lime pie.” Abby jiggled Clarke in her arms, pulling faces at her to make her laugh. She wasn’t looking at Kane.

“I’ll bring pizza,” said Kane, and Abby smiled as she kissed Clarke’s head.

“Sounds good.”

“New Year’s Eve, then.”

“Yeah.”

Kane was light of step as he hurried down the five flights of stairs and out into the cold night air. Maybe New Year wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's New Year's Eve and Abby and Kane are definitely not on a date.

Abby had cleaned her apartment from top to bottom in anticipation of Marcus’s visit, not that it wasn’t clean to start with, but it gave her something to do, took her mind off the fact that the more she thought about it, the more this seemed like a date. She’d already agonised over what to wear, thinking that anything other than what she normally wore would definitely make it seem like a date. On the other hand, it was New Year’s Eve, so making an effort was something people did even if they were sitting at home eating pizza. She still hadn’t made a decision.

Abby’s Key Lime pie was cooling on the kitchen counter. Clarke was bathed and wearing a black dress that sparkled, baby-blue tights and black shoes. Abby had put a blue headband in her hair. At least one of the Griffin women was going to look ready to party tonight. She left Clarke in the playpen while she showered and curled her hair. She looked through her meagre closet, ignoring the red dress which was definitely inappropriate. She had so few clothes. She’d sold the better items she owned a year ago when money became tight. She had the white blouse she’d worn at Christmas. She paired it with her grey jeans again and looked at herself in the mirror. Perfect. Enough of an effort, but not too much. She undid another button just because, and then applied some light makeup, a touch of lip gloss. Okay. That would have to do.

\---

Kane was standing in front of his own much larger closet, in the same agonies as Abby. Virtually everything he owned was a funereal black. How had that happened? These were clothes he’d bought before the collapse of his marriage so he couldn’t exactly blame it on his mood since then. He had a green sweater, but he’d worn that at the book reading. Black suited him, though, that was the problem. Bright colours didn’t. His shirts were white, of course, but they felt too formal. He didn’t know why it was such a big deal choosing what to wear. It wasn’t a date after all. They were two friends getting a pizza and watching a movie, which when he thought about it, was probably the very definition of a first date.

Just choose something, man! He put on black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black sweater. You can’t fight who you are. Black was his colour; there was nothing to be done about it. He debated whether to gel his hair, and then decided not to. It would be annoying, but it was less severe, more casual and relaxed if he kept it softer. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was curling at the tips where it rested against his collar. He must get a haircut. He polished his dockers and put them on, then he fastened his overcoat and left the apartment, walking along the river towards the pizzeria they’d been to a couple of weeks ago. He’d arranged for them to make some pizzas for him even though they didn’t normally do take out. It wasn’t that long a walk from there to Abby’s apartment.

He texted her while he was waiting in the pizzeria.

_Turn the oven on. Pizzas are on their way!_

She replied back a couple of seconds later with an emoji of a face with its tongue hanging out. Kane laughed.

\---

Abby opened the door to Marcus who was half hidden behind pizza boxes.

“How many pizzas have you got?” she said, ushering him inside.

“Variety is the spice of life,” he said. He took the pizzas into her kitchen and then returned to the living room, taking off his coat and draping it over the armchair.

Marcus knelt before Clarke. “Don’t you look lovely,” he said, kissing her blonde head.

“She’s ready to party,” said Abby.

“She looks great. You look lovely too,” he said, straightening up and leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you. Same to you.”

“Well, now we’ve all agreed how handsome we all are, shall we get these pizzas in the oven?” Marcus headed for the kitchen and Abby followed.

“What have you got?”

“I got that Forager you liked and the Sweet Italian. It has fennel sausage and lots of cheese. I thought we could share them. And I got Clarke her own so we could be more adventurous.”

“They smell wonderful.” Abby put the pizzas in the oven to warm.

“I brought some champagne in case we wanted it later. Shall I put it in the fridge?”

“Okay. I have some red wine if you want a glass with your dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

“Are you okay with eating from the boxes? The first movie starts in ten minutes.”

“Fine with me.”

When the pizzas were ready, Abby sliced them and swapped between the boxes. They sat on the sofa, Clarke between them, and ate while watching the first movie.

“These movies have to be some of the best ever made,” said Marcus.

“I think Return of the Jedi is my favourite of the three originals.”

“What?” Marcus paused with a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth. “How can you say that? The Empire Strikes Back is a near-perfect movie.”

“I know, but I loved the Ewoks, and the whole Darth Vader redemption thing. I love a good redemption story.”

“You’re too soft-hearted,” said Marcus.

“Maybe.”

“Mama!” said Clarke, waving her pizza at the TV.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I think she’s saying the original is the best, isn’t that right, Clarke?” Clarke stared at Marcus and then she held her slice of pizza out to him.

“Oh, erm, lovely. Thank you,” said Marcus, taking it and looking at it. Abby could see Clarke had licked the cheese and most of the sauce off and there was just a limp square of crust left.

“You’re going to have to pretend to eat that,” she said, “or she’ll stare at you all night.”

“Right.” Marcus put the pizza near his mouth and mimed eating it, making yummy noises, before palming it so Clarke couldn’t see it. Clarke stared a while longer and then laughed and clapped her hands.

“That’s it now,” said Abby. “You’ve been accepted.”

“Oh, well that’s great!”

Abby held her hand out behind Clarke’s back and Marcus deposited the pizza in it before wiping his hand on his napkin. He ruffled Clarke’s hair and Abby watched them together, her heart bursting with mixed emotions. He’s a friend, she told herself, and it would be good for Clarke to have a male influence in her life, even if he did prefer the wrong Star Wars movie.  

By the time the first movie ended, it was way past Clarke’s usual bedtime, although she showed no signs of getting tired. Abby picked her up anyway.

“I’ll just put her to bed,” she said to Marcus. “Give Marcus a kiss, Clarke.”

Clarke stared but made no move towards Marcus, so he bent towards her and deposited a kiss on her head. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he said.

Abby went to her bedroom and got Clarke ready for bed. “Are you going to be a good girl for me and go to sleep?” She put her in the cot but Clarke was immediately up and grabbing onto the bars. “I guess not.”

Abby sat on the edge of her bed for a moment, watching her daughter. She felt a flutter of something, nerves, anticipation, but of what? What did she think Marcus was going to do when they were alone? Put his arm around her? Kiss her? Did she want that? Yes, God yes, a part of her did. A part of her wanted nothing more than to be a normal woman, on a date with a handsome man, thinking about kissing him, being held in his arms. But she wasn’t normal, she wasn’t ready, and neither was he. She took a deep breath, then went out into the living room.

Marcus had poured them both a fresh glass of wine and she sat next to him.

“It’s nice to have company,” she said as she took a sip.

“Yeah. I find I work a lot more than I should to keep me occupied.”

“I guess I’m the same. I have Clarke, obviously, but I can’t have a conversation with her, and once she’s gone to bed sometimes the evenings seem to stretch out forever. So I mainly write or read.”

“We should do this more often, then,” said Marcus. “Even if we just sit quietly and read. We don’t have to entertain each other all the time.”

“You’d have to come here though, because of Clarke.”

“Well, I don’t mind that. And you could always stay over at my place. I have a spare room. We could get a bed for Clarke.”

That seemed a little permanent to Abby, like a formalisation of their relationship, but then so what? Marcus had stayed here and they’d managed that, and it wasn’t fair to make him walk back and forth all the time, especially now that winter had set in.

“I guess we could look into that,” she said, and Marcus smiled.

“Why not.”

“Have you got room for a slice of pie?”

“Definitely. Plenty of room in here.” He patted his stomach, which to Abby’s eyes was as flat as a pancake, even with most of a pizza inside it.

She brought him a slice of pie and watched out of the corner of her eye as he ate it. Apart from the Christmas truffles, it was the first thing she’d made for anyone who wasn’t Clarke since before the accident, and it gave her unexpected pleasure to see Marcus enjoying it.

“This is amazing,” he said, licking his lips to remove the meringue that had stuck to them.

“I’m glad you like it. You can take some home if you want.”

“I will. We’ll have to start eating healthier if we’re to spend more time together,” he said matter-of-factly. “Otherwise we’ll both be enormous.”

“Yes.” Abby cleared everything away and then settled next to him again to watch the rest of the movie.

By the time it was over the bottle of wine was empty and Abby was feeling sleepy. “Do you think we’ll make it to midnight?” she said to Marcus who was yawning.

“I hope so. Do you want a glass of the champagne?”

“I don’t know if I do. It might send me to sleep.”

“Okay.” He settled back into the sofa and Abby was pleased to see he didn’t get up and get some for himself.

\---

Kane sat back, his belly full, his veins warmed by the wine and Abby’s proximity. The Return of the Jedi was his least favourite of the three Star Wars movies, but he was interested now to try and watch it through Abby’s eyes, to see what she loved about it. He hadn’t felt this relaxed and comfortable in a long, long time. She was so close it felt like it would be the most natural thing to do to slip his arm around her, pull her to him, sit with her body warming his where they touched. He wondered if she would welcome that. Probably not.

“What were you doing this time last year?” Abby said. “If that’s not too distressing a question.”

“No, it’s fine. I was thinking about it earlier actually. I was on a boat on the Mississippi. There was a lot of drinking and partying.”

“I can’t picture you doing a lot of partying to be honest. Drinking, yes.” She looked at him pointedly. This was at least the second time she’d seemed disapproving of his drinking. He obviously hadn’t hidden it well enough from her. Had he ever really expected to? She was observant, and caring. She’d probably known all along.

“I thought I was enjoying it, the socialising more than outright partying, but I don’t know. I think it was a part I played to an extent, not particularly consciously, it was just the life I led. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“Well, when you left Minneapolis you could have done anything, gone off the rails, partied all the time, wine, women and song and all that, but you chose to come up here, to live a quieter life. I think that says a lot about who you really are.”

“Not sure how quiet it’s been. I have this annoying woman and her child in my life now.”

“You...” Abby slapped his knee.

She leant back, her shoulder brushing against his, her leg warm and heavy next to his. She smiled at the TV as the Ewoks came on. God, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her and hold her and tell it was all going to be alright, that they were in this together. He needed a drink, but he had no wine to sip, so he drummed his fingers softly on the arm of the sofa and tried to quell the whirlpool of emotions that was swirling within him.

He was in a dark place, running from something when he heard a clock ticking. It scared him, because it felt like the countdown to his doom. He opened his eyes, and saw that the movie had ended, and the programme had changed. The ball had just dropped in Times Square, and people were cheering and kissing. Auld Lang Syne played as the cameras panned around the crowds. He must have fallen asleep.

There was a warm weight on his shoulder, and he turned to see Abby had fallen asleep too, her head resting against him. He watched her as she breathed gently. Her long lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks and wisps of her hair were caught in them. He kissed her head, her hair feathery against his lips, and he lingered there, breathing in its coconut scent.

“Happy New Year, Abby,” he said softly.

He didn’t know what to do, whether to try and move her to her bed or leave her on the sofa. He didn’t want to run out on her, but they couldn’t lie here all night. He tried to ease out from under her, and she moaned and sighed, and shifted. Her eyes opened and looked straight up into his. She stared unblinking for a moment, and then she realised where she was, sat up, wiping her mouth, running her fingers over his sweater where she’d drooled on him.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice low and sluggish.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

She looked around, saw the TV where the presenters were interviewing people in the crowd. “Did I miss New Year?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She blinked and yawned.

“I think it’s time you went to bed.” Kane helped her stand and she swayed against him for a moment while she found her footing.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going home.”

“Okay.”

Kane picked up his coat from the chair, put it on, wrapped his scarf around his neck. He opened the door, stood on the threshold.

“Happy New Year, Abby,” he said again.

“Happy New Year, Marcus.” She reached up, put her hands on his chest and gave him a soft kiss that seemed meant for his cheek but instead grazed the side of his mouth. Her lips pressed against his, and his heart thumped as warmth spread through him. She stepped back, breaking the contact, and looked up at him, eyes drowsy with sleep.

“Text me when you get home,” she said.

“You’ll be asleep.”

“Text me anyway.”

“Okay.”

Kane’s journey home felt like it took no time at all, because he floated most of the way on the memory of the evening, and the lingering warmth of her kiss. She hadn’t meant to kiss him like that, but it had still felt good. When he got back to his condo, he stripped off his clothes and got in his bed in his boxers. He got his phone and texted Abby.

_I’m home okay. Night. M xx_

He didn’t expect a response but a few seconds later his phone vibrated on the bedside table and he looked at it.

_Good. Night. A xx_

Marcus smiled and his heart thumped again. He was in love with her, there was no point denying it to himself any longer. It was more than just a transfer of his emotions from one person to another. It was something wonderful and unexpected. She made him happy, her and Clarke, when he’d never thought he’d be happy again. He didn’t know what he was going to do with this realisation. What was to be done? She was still grieving her husband. He was still reeling from Rebecca’s betrayal, and couldn’t one hundred percent trust his feelings. He didn’t want to be hurt again, and certainly didn’t want to hurt Abby. Best to keep it under wraps for now; let some time pass. It was going to be an interesting year, one way or another.

He returned the phone to the table then turned over and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane finds himself in a challenging situation

Two weeks passed which were filled with plans for the festival. Abby’s working hours had increased and she and Kane spent more time together. Kane had spent the Saturday evenings at her house having dinner with her and Clarke and then watching a movie or talking with Abby. There was very little now that they didn’t know about each other, apart from the one thing that he still couldn’t bring himself to tell her. It was never going to be the right time now. He just had to accept that.

Friday morning and someone buzzing at his door jolted Kane from a peaceful sleep. He sat up, disorientated, and looked at his watch. It was seven o’clock! Who the hell was buzzing him this early? He got out of bed and padded slowly over to the intercom.

“Yes?” he said grumpily.

“Marcus, it’s me.”

“Abby?” What was she doing here this early, and on a Friday?

“Can I come in?”

“Erm, yes, yes of course.” Kane buzzed her in then looked frantically around his apartment. It wasn’t too bad, just a half empty bottle of wine, which he hid in the utility room. He picked up the glass and stuck it in the dishwasher along with last night’s dishes.

His front door buzzed before he had chance to do anything else and it wasn’t until he had his fingers wrapped around the handle that he realised he was dressed only in his boxer shorts. Shit!

“Marcus?” said Abby through the door. She sounded upset so he opened it and peeked out. She and Clarke were wrapped up against the winter cold. “Can I come in?” she said.

“Erm, yes, but I’m not dressed, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

Marcus held the door for her and she pushed Clarke in then turned to look at him as he closed the door behind her. Her eyes roamed his mostly naked body and she looked at him one eyebrow raised. 

“I just got out of bed,” he said, to explain. “Hang on one second.” He went into his bedroom and pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms. “What are you doing here?” he said when he returned to the living room.

“I’m really sorry to turn up like this. I called a few times but there was no answer and I was desperate.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I’ve got a chance of a day’s work at the school. I know I’m earning money with you but it won’t last forever and I want to keep in with them.” She was talking quickly as though she needed to get the words out, and Kane started to get a sinking feeling.

“That’s a good idea,” he said slowly.

“Yes. Well, the thing is, and I’m really sorry to ask this. I wouldn’t ask you if there wasn’t anybody else, not that I don’t trust you and wouldn’t come to you first, I do, I would, but.” She took a deep breath.

“Just say it, Abby.”

“Mrs Larson is ill and she can’t take Clarke. There’s no one else available. Would you be able to... would you mind looking after her? It’s only for a few hours.” She gave him her best wide-eyed look and Kane felt panic set in.

“I’ve never taken care of a child, Abby. I don’t know what to do!”

“You’ll be fine. I’ve written you a list of instructions, exactly what to do and when. You have my cell number if anything happens.”

“What could happen?” said Kane, alarmed at her words. There were a million ways he could kill Clarke and most of them were scrolling through his mind as he stood staring at Abby.

“Nothing will happen. I phrased that wrongly. I meant if you needed me, you know how to get hold of me.” Abby took Clarke’s diaper bag off the stroller and put it on Kane’s sofa. “Everything you need is in here, and there’s a bag of toys beneath her seat.”

Kane looked down at Clarke who was smiling at him her eyes as wide as her mother’s. God help him. He put his hands on his head. “I’ve never even changed a diaper!”

“It’s easy. You just take it off, wipe her bottom with the wet wipes and put a new one on. They have fastenings that are really simple. The packet shows you what to do.”

Kane stared at her, his mind still stuck on the words ‘wipe her bottom’. “I...”

“I have to go or I’ll be late. Please, Marcus. There’s no one else, and she loves you.” She sounded so desperate and Kane felt bad for not agreeing straight away. He didn’t want to make her beg so he gave in with a sigh.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Oh, thank you so much. You’ll both be fine. I promise.”

Abby bent down and kissed Clarke. “Be good for Marcus, sweetheart. I love you.”

She stood up. “You’re an angel,” she said, and she kissed him softly on the cheek before hurrying out of his apartment. Kane stood staring after her, the cold imprint of her lips lingering where they’d pressed against his skin.

“Mama! Mama!” said Clarke, and Kane looked down at her where she sat bundled up in her stroller.

“It’s me and you, kid, for a while at least.”

He unbuckled the harness and got Clarke out of the stroller. She stood still while he unzipped her snow suit and eased one chubby arm out after the other. He pushed it down and waited for her to step out of it but she stood and looked at him.

“Okay. You can’t step out of it. I’ll have to lift you.” He picked her up and tried to drag one of the legs of the suit over her foot but he couldn’t reach properly. He ended up holding her horizontally against his hip so he could pull off the trousers. “There we go,” he said to a giggling Clarke. It was only after he’d set her back down that he remembered Abby usually laid her on the floor to pull off the suit. That would have been much easier.

“Lesson one learned,” he said to Clarke. “Now what?”

He had absolutely no idea what to do with her or how to entertain her. Abby usually let her wander around the apartment while she kept an eye on her, but Kane felt nervous doing that. What if she stuck her finger in something or tripped? He wasn’t prepared for this at all. He settled for letting her wander and following her as she explored, hovering ready to take away anything she tried to touch or eat.

After ten minutes of wobbling around his apartment, Clarke suddenly flopped on the floor. Kane studied her. Toys were what she needed. He went to the stroller and found the bag in the tray beneath it. Inside were Clarke’s favourite toys: building bricks, cars, a spinning top thing and paper and crayons. Kane emptied it all onto the floor and let her choose. She picked up the bricks and started banging them together.

“I think you’re supposed to make something with them,” said Kane as he eased his old bones onto the floor next to her.

He spent a pleasant hour or so building a space station out of the bricks and various other items he rooted for in his home. Clarke preferred to knock down what he was building but Kane found he had a surprising amount of patience with this, and simply rebuilt it until he was happy with his creation. He took a photo of it with Clarke in the background and texted it to Abby.

Ten minutes later, as he was tidying the bricks away, she texted him back.

_Someone’s having fun! x_

Kane sent her a winking emoji and a kiss in return.

“What next?” he said to Clarke, checking his watch, surprised to see it was only nine o’clock. He probably had another seven hours to get through. Christ! How did Abby do this all day, every day?

Clarke seemed happy on the floor playing with her cars so he looked through the diaper bag and found the list of instructions. He was to try and get her to nap around nine thirty and then again at one. How the hell was he supposed to do that?

There were two books in the bag. The Gruffalo and Charlotte’s Web. They were well-thumbed so Kane assumed Abby must read them to Clarke all the time. He made himself a coffee then picked Clarke up and sat her on the sofa next to him.

“Shall we have a story?” he said.

“Book.”

“Yes, a book. Which one do you want?” He held the books in front of her. She patted them both so Kane picked Charlotte’s Web, which he hadn’t read before. The Gruffalo was a regular fixture in his bookstores, and he was sick of it truth be told.

“Okay then. Here we go.” He turned the page and started to read. After a minute, Clarke crawled onto his lap. “Oh. You want to sit on my knee?”

She didn’t answer him of course, just sat there awkwardly. Kane put one arm around her to hold her steady and held the book in his other hand. “You know, I’m not sure this is appropriate for someone your age,” he said as he read down the page silently, surprised at how violent the opening to the story was. Did Abby really read this to Clarke? He supposed she couldn’t understand it, but still. He didn’t feel comfortable reading the parts about killing pigs and rifles, so he skipped to chapter two. This was more like it.

He was well into chapter three before Clarke’s head dropped onto his chest and he realised she’d fallen asleep. He stopped reading and waited a minute, but she didn’t stir. What to do now? His leg was already dead from the weight of her and his arm had pins and needles where he held her. He couldn’t sit like this for an hour or so while she slept. His coffee was going cold tantalisingly out of reach, and it was the first of the day. Normally he’d be on his second by now but with Abby arriving so early he hadn’t had breakfast or his morning caffeine. He’d have to put Clarke down somehow.

He stood up slowly and carefully. It was hard to do because she was a dead weight and it was like lifting a bar at the gym, not that he’d been to the gym in a long while. He managed to stand without waking her and he walked to his bedroom and deposited her in his bed, pulling the cover over her. He made a fresh coffee and toasted some bread then took them into the bedroom, settling himself into the chair in the corner of the room so he could keep an eye on Clarke. His laptop was on the floor where he’d left it after working late in bed, so he picked it up and checked his emails.

It was hard to concentrate because he couldn’t help thinking about Abby, who had to do this without help all the time. There was no day off for her, no weekend where she could let her hair down, dance all night, sleep all day if she wanted to. She had to be there for Clarke all the time. No wonder she went to the coffee shop so much; it was an escape from the same four walls. Kane thought he’d go mad if he had to parent full time. His respect and admiration for Abby were off the charts, but he didn’t know how he could help her. Maybe he should offer to babysit Clarke more often, on a Saturday or something so she could write undisturbed or go see a movie or take a walk, all the things Kane took for granted being able to do.

Clarke woke an hour and a half later and screamed when she saw Kane looming over her. She thrashed around in the bed, crying, and Kane felt helpless. Every time he went near her she cried more so he couldn’t even pick her up to comfort her like he’d seen Abby do. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. Maybe she was hungry? Abby’s list said to feed her some veggie snacks when she woke. Kane hovered in the doorway, not wanting to leave Clarke in case she rolled off the bed, but also wanting to get her some food.

He decided to risk it and sprinted to the kitchen to get the food he’d put in the refrigerator, returning with his heart pounding to find Clarke sitting up, tears streaking her face but at least no longer crying.

“Hi,” he said in as soft a voice as he could manage. “It’s me, Marcus.”

She looked up at him her bottom lip trembling. “Mama, mama,” she cried.

“Mama won’t be long,” he said despairingly. He grabbed his phone, searched for the picture of Abby and Clarke she’d texted him on Christmas day. He sat on the bed next to Clarke. “Here’s mama,” he said, showing it to her. She smiled when she saw the picture.

“Mama,” she said and pointed at it.

“Yes, that’s mama. She’ll be back soon. Do you want something to eat?” he said, as though she could understand him and reply with a list of food requirements. Idiot. “Do you want one of these?” he said holding out a carrot stick.

“Stick. Yes.” She held out her hand and took the stick, crunching on it.

“Oh, good,” said Kane, relieved that he’d got nap and food under his belt. This parenting lark was a doddle once you knew what you were doing. He sat on the bed next to Clarke and fed her veggies dipped in hummus. She dripped it all over her Winnie The Pooh t-shirt and his sheets but he was just happy she was eating and no longer crying. “I’m getting good at this,” he said to her.

His phone rang and it was Abby. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi. How are you two doing?”

“We’re fine. She’s had a nap and she’s eating her veggies with the hummus.”

“Oh great, oh that’s great. Well done!” Abby couldn’t hide the relief in her voice and Kane didn’t blame her. He’d have been scared too if he’d had to leave his precious child in his inexperienced hands.

“When will you be home?” said Kane, wiping some hummus off Clarke’s chin.

“You mean when will I pick her up? Around three thirty if not before. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” He realised too late that he’d used the word home, as though Abby and Clarke lived here and him looking after her daughter was an everyday occurrence. He was getting too comfortable with their relationship, although Abby clearly wasn’t, as she’d corrected him. What did she think of what he’d said? It was a natural mistake. He’d meant home as in his home, not theirs. She’d see that.

“Can you put her on the phone to me?”

“Sure.” Kane held the phone to Clarke’s ear while Abby talked to her. Clarke didn’t seem too fussed to hear her mother’s voice now that the shock of waking up with a fairly strange man staring at her had worn off.

“I really appreciate this,” Abby said when he returned the phone to his own ear.

“It’s fine. We’re having fun.”

“Okay. I have to go my class are here. I’ll call you at lunch.”

“Don’t worry about Clarke. She’s fine.”

“I was more worried about you.” Abby laughed. “Okay. Bye, Marcus.”

“Bye, Abby,” he said as he heard the raucous laughter of her students filing into the room before she ended the call.

“Mama’s very pleased with us, Clarke,” he said, and then a dreadful smell assaulted his nostrils. “Oh, God, what have you done?” he said. Clarke laughed at him and bounced up and down on the bed. Kane looked at her with trepidation. This was the task he’d been dreading the most.

He got a towel from his bathroom and laid it on the floor before retrieving the diaper bag. He picked Clarke up and sat her on the towel. “Lie down,” he said, but she stuck her finger up her nose and laughed at him. “Okay. We’ll do this the hard way.” He pressed her down gently and held her legs in the air so she couldn’t try and sit back up. She wriggled but he held her firmly. He took off her slipper shoes and then pulled down her pants the way he should have done her snowsuit. They came off fairly easily. Now there was only the diaper between him and hell.

He fished in the bag for a clean diaper, the packet of wipes and some cream that Abby had said he had to put on if it looked like there was a rash. God, this was a nightmare.

“Okay, Clarke. I’m going to do this. You be good now.”

He unfastened the diaper and was assaulted by a strong smell and poop everywhere. It was smeared all over her front and when he lifted her bottom off the ground it was all over there too.

“What have you been doing? Good heavens!” Kane wrinkled his nose as he contemplated the task ahead. There was so much poop spread around he figured the best thing was to try and wipe some of it off with the diaper first. He did that, then pulled the diaper away, discarding it at the edge of the towel. There was going to be poop on the towel now no matter what, but he could wash it he supposed.

He pulled out a wet wipe and started to clean the parts he could easily see first. He wiped her private areas as quickly and efficiently as he could, then got another wipe and another, and another. He’d been through about ten before he felt she was sufficiently clean. There were a few red spots on her butt, but he didn’t know if that constituted a rash. Better safe than sorry. He squirted cream on her and rubbed it in. It didn’t seem to absorb that much so he ended up spreading it all over her back and belly just to get rid of it.

“Okay, I think you’re clean,” he said, lifting her this way and that so he could see every part.

He got the fresh diaper and put it underneath her, lifting the flaps and fastening the tape on each side. He stood her up and it started to sag, so he laid her back down, undid it and fastened it tighter. This time when she stood up it seemed to hold. “We’ve got this,” he said.

Clarke reached out and pulled his nose, which he thought was a fitting comment on the quality of his diaper changing. “Hey, you’re clean and fresh, what more do you want?” he said, his voice coming out nasally as she was still squeezing his nose. The sound of it made her laugh so she squeezed harder.

“You’re going to pay for that,” said Kane and he tickled her to make her let go. He managed to get her dressed again and stuffed all the dirty items into a thin plastic bag according to Abby’s instructions. “You’re not good for the environment, young lady,” he said as he put the mound of plastic and unflushable wipes in the trash. When he and Rebecca had discussed children, he’d held the view that disposable diapers were a curse on the earth and should be eschewed in favour of towelling ones that could be washed. Having now seen what was involved in changing a baby he couldn’t honestly say he’d want to have to clean those diapers ten times a day.

“There has to be a better way, Clarke,” he said. “Maybe you will grow up to be a scientist and you can find a better solution to the world’s diaper crisis.” Clarke nodded her agreement to this idea.

Kane carried her to the living room and sat on the sofa with her to continue the story of Charlotte’s Web, but all Clarke wanted to do was play. He sat on the floor and pushed cars around the room and built more structures for her to knock down.

After lunch and another nap they were sitting on the sofa, Kane with his legs stretched out, Clarke on his lap facing him. He was too tired to get down on the floor again, fearing he might never get up if he did. He had been trying to teach her his name for the last ten minutes.

“Say Marcus, Clarke. MAR CUS.”

Clarke babbled at him.

“MAR CUS.”

She slapped her hand against his face, pulled his bottom lip out so he couldn’t speak any further. “Mar Mar,” she said, letting go of him.

Kane’s heart leapt out of his chest. “What did you say?”

“Mar Mar. Mar Mar.”

“That’s right! Now say Cus. Cus.”

She leaned in and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. Kane was taken aback. She must have thought he was saying kiss, and she’d done as he asked.

“Thank you!” he said, and he felt his cheeks redden and his heart constrict. These Griffin women were going to be the death of him, he knew it.

“We’ll stick with Mar Mar for now,” he said. “Let’s read some more of the book.”

When the intercom buzzed it surprised Kane and Clarke because they were both absorbed in making a card for Abby. He buzzed her in and she came through the open door with a smile on her face.

“Baby!” she said, and she swooped Clarke up and swung her back and forth in her arms. “I missed you so much,” she said, raining kisses over her face and hair. Clarke babbled excitedly in return.

“Has she been good?” said Abby, and she looked Kane up and down.

“Are you checking for signs of injury?” he said with a laugh.

“Yes. Just making sure you’re okay.”

“We’ve been fine. We’ve had naps, we’ve read. By the way, I don’t think that Charlotte’s Web book is suitable, Abby. It’s really violent.”

“She can’t really understand it and believe me once you’ve read The Gruffalo a thousand times you long for something you can enjoy too. That’s my compromise.”

“I get that,” said Kane.

“How did changing her diaper go?” Abby said as she rummaged through the diaper bag. “Jeez, how many wet wipes did you use?” She brandished the half empty package at Kane.

“She poops a lot!” he said.

“Yeah, but one or two usually does it. You’ve used half the pack!”

“Well, she’s clean, that’s all that matters.”

Abby packed Clarke’s things away, smiling and shaking her head.

“I’ll get you some more,” said Kane, feeling chagrined.

“No, it’s fine. It’s funny, that’s all. You’ve been wonderful. I can’t thank you enough.”

“There’s no need to thank me. How was the school?”

“Oh, great. They’re good kids. I enjoyed it.”

“I’m glad.” Kane picked up Clarke’s toys and put them in their bag. “Do you want to stay for dinner seeing as you’re here? I was going to order Chinese later.”

“Oh, no. We’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks, though.” Abby looked up at him through her long eyelashes as she tidied the remaining things away.

“If you’re sure.”

“Yes. Another time, though.”

“Okay.” Kane felt rejected at first, then he watched her as she dressed Clarke in the snowsuit and put her in her stroller, yawning as she did so. She was tired, probably wanted nothing more than to go home and relax, not have to deal with Kane after a long day with schoolchildren.

“Thanks again,” said Abby, and she smiled warmly. Kane waited for another kiss on the cheek but it didn’t come.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for movie night,” he said.

“Yes. See you then. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” She was halfway through the door when he remembered the card. “Oh, Abby, wait a second.” He retrieved it and pressed it into her hand. “Clarke made this for you.”

Abby looked at it and laughed. “I survived a day with Marcus Kane. Oh, my God. I love it.” She opened the card, smiling when she saw the crude drawing Kane had made of himself looking terrified holding Clarke at arm’s length, decorated with Clarke’s crayoning. “I’m lost for words.” She looked at him with eyes that were a little too shiny, and a lump came to Kane’s throat.

“I would be speechless too looking at that,” he managed to say. She gave a small laugh. “See you tomorrow, Abby.” She nodded and then turned and headed towards the elevator. Kane shut the door and stood against it. What a day! He was exhausted but happy. He went to the utility room to retrieve the half empty bottle of wine and poured himself a glass even though it was still mid-afternoon. He realised as he took a sip that he’d forgotten to tell her Clarke had learned his name. He’d tell her tomorrow.


	22. Chapter 22

“Marcus, I’m at the end of my patience with you.” Vera’s voice echoed around the kitchen where Kane was standing at the countertop with the phone on speaker next to him. His knife clattered off the marble as he sliced through a carrot with more aggression than was necessary.

“I’m sorry I’m not the son you think I should be,” he said coolly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I love you. You’re my son no matter what.”

“I’m not coming back to Minneapolis.” Kane pulled a rutabaga towards him and sliced through that.

“You can’t run the company from up there.”

“It’s the twenty-first century. I could run it from Antarctica if I wanted to.”

“It’s not just about managing and paperwork, it’s about being a presence, the face of the company. Your father walked through one of the stores every day of his working life, and your grandfather before him.”

“I’m not them.”

“No.”

The disappointment in his mother’s voice annoyed Kane. He’d been a dutiful son all his life. Done what had to be done. Stepped up when his father died, made the company a bigger success. Now, when he was at his lowest ebb, when he needed her support, he was a disappointment. Well, tough. He was done doing what everybody else thought he should do. His father might have lived and breathed the company, but it had killed him before he reached sixty. Kane had no desire to follow so closely in his footsteps.

“The festival is looking like it will be a success, if you’re interested,” he said as he added the vegetables to the pot.

“That festival.” Vera huffed. “That’s all you’re interested in. Well, not all.” She paused, expecting Kane to step in with a rebuttal or denial or question. He remained silent.

“This is all because of that woman, Abby,” she continued.

“It has nothing to do with Abby.”

“Like hell it doesn’t. You left me stranded at the ball, your uncle Martin had to step in and do YOUR duty, and what were you doing? Running up there to be with her.”

“Do we have to have this conversation EVERY time you ring?”

“We will have this conversation until you come back here where you belong.”

“What if I don’t belong there, have you thought about that?”

Kane could hear Vera’s well-manicured fingernails tapping against glass. She was probably sitting in the conservatory, two shots of vermouth down. “Of course you belong here. We’re your family.”

Kane lifted his glass of wine then set it back down again. He was trying to break the habit of taking a drink every time he was upset. These conversations with his mother didn’t help in this, but then he supposed it was the trying times that mattered the most. He pushed the glass away.

He wanted to say to Vera that he was making a new family of his own, but he didn’t want to confirm her suspicions about his feelings for Abby, never mind the fact it might come as a surprise to Abby that he thought of her and Clarke in that way.

“Marcus, I want you to come back to Minneapolis. I want you to do your job properly and I want you to face up to what has happened. No one cares about you and Rebecca. It’s old news now.”

Kane’s heartrate increased at the mention of his ex-wife, and at what sounded like an ultimatum from Vera. “I care,” he said quietly.

Vera sighed. “It’s been seven months since you left. When are you going to get over it?”

I might never be over it, he thought. “When the Mississippi dries up,” he said.

“Don’t be facetious, Marcus.”

Kane banged a lid on top of the pot, and he heard Vera tut over the phone. “I have to go now.”

“Why? Is Abby coming to see you?”

“Yes. She’s here now, stark naked, waiting for you to get off the phone so she can do unspeakable things to me.”

“For heaven’s sakes, Marcus!”

“Bye, mom.” He ended the call then switched his phone off so she couldn’t ring him back.

It wasn’t Abby she was against, not personally, at least he didn’t think so. They might never be friends, but he thought his mom might like Abby if they met. She was single-minded, hardworking and focused and those were qualities Vera greatly admired. No, the problem was she was an obstacle in Vera’s mind. The reason why her son wasn’t coming home. She didn’t understand that he physically couldn’t go back there. Of course, he hadn’t told her about the panic attack, so she could hardly be to blame for focusing her annoyance on Abby. Vera would see it as a weakness if she knew, or she’d just smother him with worry. Either way, he wasn’t going to tell her, he was keeping Abby to himself, and he wasn’t going home. Decisions made.

\---

It was late in the afternoon, but Abby managed to grab her usual seat in the coffee shop before a young couple got it. She’d pushed Clarke’s stroller towards it purposefully and gave them a piercing stare, which only the bravest of people would have dared ignore. She settled Clarke, then took off her coat and hat and hung them on the rack. She glanced around the room. People she didn’t recognise were sitting at Marcus’s table, although it wasn’t his table anymore. He rarely came to the coffee shop as they spent Mondays together at his home and often on Thursdays he was out meeting people about the festival or working with Abby. It was mid-February, and preparations for the festival were taking up most of his and Abby’s time. As a consequence he’d let his reservation of the table go.

Lincoln was the barista today and he came over to Abby when he saw her. “Haven’t seen you in here for a while,” he said, taking out his notepad.

“I know; I’ve been busy.” She smiled at Lincoln as she took out her laptop and booted it up.

“You’ve been with that guy a lot, Kane.”

“Yes. We’re working together on the literary festival. I told you about it.”

“Yeah, I know you did. I just didn’t realise you were getting so close to him.”

Abby looked fixedly at Lincoln who was standing with his notebook clasped tight in his hand. He seemed angry, but she couldn’t figure out why. “We’re friends,” she said defensively.

“Hmm. How well do you really know him, though?”

“I know him perfectly well.” Abby shut her laptop and gave Lincoln her full attention. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Something is.”

“It’s just. I wonder what his intentions are.”

Abby couldn’t stifle a laugh. “You sound like you’re my father.” She opened up her laptop again. “There’s no need to worry about his intentions. He’s very honourable, and even if he weren’t, well that’s no one else’s business.”

“I’m sure he is, but.” Lincoln flicked the top of his pen in and out a few times. “Louisa told me the other day that he questioned her about you ages back.”

Abby’s blood ran cold at Lincoln’s words. “What do you mean?”

“You weren’t here one day and he asked her about you and she told him about the accident and that you had no money. He bought you coffees but told her to lie about who they came from. I was surprised when I heard that. It made me wonder about him, that’s all.”

Abby’s chest grew tight and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Marcus knew about her accident before she’d told him? He can’t have, or else he would have said. “When was this?”

“Erm, I think it was sometime around October, when you had that work at the high school.”

That was before they’d even spoken to each other. All this time she’d thought he didn’t know anything about her, that his friendship, the way he cared about her, was based on his feelings about her as a person, not someone to be pitied. Instead, he’d sent the penniless widow secret coffees. Why had he done that? Because he felt sorry for her? Oh, God. And why hadn’t he told her he knew? This was too much to take in, and Lincoln was staring at her. Abby couldn’t bear it.

“I, erm. I have to go,” Abby said, putting her laptop away. God, that was something else he’d got for her.

“Abby.” Lincoln put his hand on her arm but Abby shrugged it off. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about him. I was just concerned after what I heard.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll see you.” She grabbed her coat and put it on without fastening it, picked up Clarke and her bag and pushed the stroller ahead of her. Someone opened the door and Abby stumbled out into the cold air. She walked across the street, and then she held Clarke to her tightly and buried her face in her daughter’s hair. What did this all mean? Why hadn’t Marcus told her he knew? Had he targeted her for some reason? She had to find out.

\---

Kane stirred the veggie stew he was preparing for his dinner. He was trying to eat more healthily as well as cut down his drinking. It was a nightmare doing both at once, but he figured it was best just to rip the band aid off and get it over with. He was sleeping better and had more energy, which gave him some motivation to continue. The buzzer surprised him, and he was even more surprised to find it was Abby on the other end.

“Can I come up?” she said, her voice sounding tight. Kane hoped there was nothing wrong.

“Of course.” He buzzed her in, checked his stew then opened the door so she could come straight in.

She pushed a smiling Clarke ahead of her, and Kane looked down at the child and pulled a face to make her laugh. When he looked up, Abby was not laughing. Something was the matter.

“What’s up?” he said, putting his hand on her arm and kissing her cheek like he always did. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t reciprocate with a hug or a kiss of her own as she normally would.

“I don’t know, Marcus,” she said with a sigh. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”

That didn’t sound good. Her lips were set in a tight line, and she crossed her arms and stared at him with hard eyes. Shit, what had he done? His mind flew back over their recent interactions, but he couldn’t think of anything he’d said or done that might have upset her. “Are you taking your coat off?” he said, to delay whatever was coming his way.

“I don’t think we’ll be staying.”

Kane’s heartrate picked up and his hands became sweaty. He didn’t want to hear what she was going to say. “Tell me what’s wrong, Abby,” he said in a voice that was an effort to keep even.

“When did you find out about my accident?”

Oh, fuck! She knew. How? The heat of shame and guilt flushed through Kane’s body. His mouth went dry and it was a struggle to get any words out. “Erm...”

Abby put her hand to her head, ran her fingers through her hair. “So, it’s true? You knew before I told you? I don’t believe this!”

“I. I didn’t ask about it. Louisa volunteered the information, that’s all.”

“That’s all? You knew these personal things about me before we’d even met properly, and you never told me. You acted like you didn’t know anything when I told you. How could you do that?”

“I didn’t think you’d like it if you thought I knew about it. I...”

“You’re damned right I wouldn’t have liked it. God, Marcus, all this time!” She had one hand on Clarke’s stroller, the other on her hip. Her face was pale but she had high spots of colour on her cheeks. “Did you feel sorry for me, is that it? Is that why we’re friends now?”

“No, God no.” Kane didn’t know what to say for the best. He had felt sorry for her, of course he had, who wouldn’t? But if he admitted that now it would only make things worse.

“You knew I had no money. All along, you knew. You gave me free coffees like I was some helpless, useless child to be pitied. Did that make you feel good?”

“I didn’t pity you. I liked you.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

“No, but...”

“You KNOW how fed up I was of people pitying me. You know that I valued the fact that you liked me for ME, not because of what happened to me.” She put both hands on Clarke’s stroller. Tears were welling in her eyes and Kane could feel them threatening to spill from his.

“I did like you for you, I do. I knew, yes, but that wasn’t why I liked you, and it hasn’t affected how I feel about you.” Kane felt desperate because she was brushing the tears away and her face was changing from confused and upset to stern. She was going to go and leave him and what if she never came back?

“Please don’t go,” he said as she kicked the brake off Clarke’s stroller.

“I have to. I really don’t know what to think or how to handle this.” She looked at him, her eyes so dark and sad it broke Kane’s heart.

“You mean everything to me, you and Clarke.” Kane put his hand on hers where it rested on the handle of the stroller. He was relieved that she didn’t immediately shake it off. “What I feel for you isn’t pity, has never been pity.”

Abby sighed. “I know. I know that, I do. At least I think I do. I need time, Marcus, please. I need time to think.”

“Of course.” He took his hand from hers. “I’m here. I’ll be here for you.”

Tears spilled down Abby’s face. “I have to go.”

“Please don’t leave for good, Abby,” he said, his voice cracking with his desperation. “Not without giving me a chance to properly explain.”

She looked at him for what felt like an age, then pushed Clarke towards the door. She turned as she opened it. “I won’t leave you. Not like this, but I need some space. Do you understand that?”

Kane nodded, because he didn’t think he could speak.

She looked at him again, and then she turned and left, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kane stood staring after her. Well, he’d well and truly fucked that up. He’d known all along he should have told her, that there was only ever going to be one outcome of keeping his knowledge from her. He should have mentioned it at the start and dealt with the consequences then. He was a coward along with a prideful, conceited idiot who was clearly not meant for any kind of meaningful relationship.

He grabbed the bottle of wine from the cupboard, poured himself a large glass and lay down on the sofa. His heart was thumping so hard it was painful. He felt helpless because until she decided she was ready to talk to him there was nothing he could do. It’s your own fault. All of this is of your own making. He took a large gulp of his wine, and it felt comforting as it warmed through his limbs. He would have to wait and see what Abby wanted, but whatever it was he was through. No more relationships after this. He wasn’t ready and he shouldn’t be inflicting himself on other people who weren’t ready either.

He picked up the TV remote, found a channel showing old movies and settled in for a long night of drinking and feeling sorry for himself.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby tries to come to terms with what Marcus has done, and receives some shocking news.

It was three days since Abby’s confrontation with Marcus. She’d continued working, even though at first she’d wanted to give the job up and have nothing more to do with him or his company. That was a knee-jerk reaction, and she had a child to earn money for. She’d emailed him about festival business when necessary and he’d sent short business-like replies. Other than that, they’d had no personal contact.

She was mad, more than anything. Initially, she’d been angry that he’d questioned people about her, but when she’d calmed down and thought about it, she realised it wasn’t exactly crime of the century. She was someone he didn’t know but had been curious about like she had been with him. She’d thought about Googling him; all he’d done was ask a question and received more in reply than he’d bargained for. She knew this because she’d questioned Louisa at length and knew everything that had passed between her and Marcus. It wasn’t a surprise that his interest had been piqued.

It wasn’t that he’d found out; it was that he hadn’t told her. And not only that, he’d sat there when she was opening her heart to him, holding her hands, pretending it was all new, pretending to be upset, concerned, when all along he knew. He should have told her then, or before that, or at any one of the hundreds of times they’d been alone since then. It felt like a deception, and she was struggling to get over it.

She’d thought long and hard about everything since that day, and she didn’t believe he had any malicious intent. He hadn’t targeted her; he wasn’t some crazy who got off on comforting grieving women or wanted a ready-made family. Maybe it was true that he hadn’t felt sorry for her or pitied her, and she didn’t believe that he’d lied about what happened to him. He cared for her the way she cared for him; it wasn’t a lie; she was sure of it. If only he’d told her what he knew.

It was knowing those things deep down even as she was crying in his condo that had prevented her from storming out and never seeing him again. He was a good man, and true, and the last thing she’d wanted to do as she stood at the door and looked at the devastation on his face was break his heart even more than it had already been broken. She couldn’t abandon him and leave him with no hope, but at the same time she couldn’t be in the same room as him or see him until she’d thought everything through and come to a decision about how she wanted to go forward.

It was with all of that in mind that she was now sitting in her living room whilst Clarke napped in her bedroom, her hand clutching the cell phone he’d given her. She was ready to see him, to tell him what she wanted. She called up his number, but it rang for ages then went to voicemail. His voice was no-nonsense and business-like in its greeting, and she cancelled the call then dialled again just so she could hear it. When the beep sounded, she left a message.

“Marcus, it’s me. I want to see you. I’m ready to talk if you are. Call me back.”

He didn’t call her back, even though she checked her phone periodically throughout the afternoon. Maybe he was busy, or maybe he was upset with her. Maybe he wasn’t ready to speak yet. She’d assumed he would be sitting there waiting for her call. A part of her was disappointed that he wasn’t. At seven o’clock she put Clarke to bed for the night and called again. Again, it went to voicemail. Fuck. What was he doing? She’d had an email from him yesterday regarding work and she called it up on her phone to examine it, looking for signs of distress or any clue as to his mood. It was perfunctory, although he still started every message with Dear Abby like he’d always done. That was probably just his way, like he was Mr Kane to his staff.

Abby sat at her small kitchen table and worked on more of her novel revisions. Writing the second draft was harder than writing the first. She’d tried to view it through the eyes of the reader, rather than her own, and that had helped her see what could be cut and what didn’t make sense. Marcus’s notes were in her bag, expanded now from the first few chapters he’d read to the whole novel. She took the pad out and opened it. There were fewer notes as the book progressed, mainly because Abby had begged him to be more concise as it was taking her ages to find the relevant ones and understand them. She traced his small neat handwriting with her fingers.

“Goddamn idiot,” she said, smiling. She missed him.

Her phone rang and she snatched it up. She was disappointed to see it was Raven. What was she doing calling at this hour?

“Hi Raven,” she said.

“Abby. Where are you?” She sounded out of breath, and the hairs on Abby’s arms stood up.

“I’m at home. Why?”

“It’s Mr Kane. He’s in the hospital.”

Fuck! Abby’s blood ran cold. What had he done? “Is he okay? What’s happened?” She stood up, paced the small kitchen.

“It’s his heart. I don’t know how he is.”

Abby felt sick, and a lump came to her throat, making it difficult to swallow and talk. “Where is he?” she said, thickly.

“In Saint Croy. I’m at the hospital now but they won’t tell me anything. You’d better come, Abby. Get a cab.” Raven’s voice was stressed, and Abby could hear tears in it. Panic ran through her veins.

“I. I can’t get a cab, Raven. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Why not? Don’t you have cash or like an app or something? I’ll call you an Uber.”

“I don’t think we have Uber in Arkadia Falls.”

“Just get here, Abby.” Someone spoke to Raven in the background. “I have to go.”

“Raven...” Abby realised she was speaking to silence as Raven had ended the call. Shit! What was she going to do? She had to get to the hospital but there weren’t any buses at this time of night. She’d have to go in a car. She broke into a sweat at the thought. Fuck!

She called Mrs Larson to see if she would look after Clarke and was relieved when the woman said yes. Mr Larson offered to drive Abby to Saint Croy and it was with shaking hands she opened the door and got into the back seat.

“I’ll drive carefully,” he said, looking at her with concern.

“Thank you.”

Abby felt the panic rise as the car moved away and headed down the dark, snowy street. When Mr Larson pulled onto the highway Abby was cold and sweating at the same time. Her heart was racing so fast she was hyperventilating. She grabbed the door handle of the car and tried to take deep, slow breaths as she’d been taught to do by the hospital therapist.

She tried to do all of this quietly so she wouldn’t distract Mr Larson who she could see kept glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.

“I’m okay,” she said, forcing a smile, so he would stop looking at her. He nodded, and from then on kept his eyes on the road.

Abby watched the familiar landmarks go past as they got nearer and nearer to the scene of the accident. She hadn’t been down this road often since then and when she had it had been in a bus and she’d kept her eyes closed the whole time. Now, travelling in a car on a similar kind of night to that one, it all threatened to come back to her.

She closed her eyes, but then opened them again. She had to face it, and it might as well be now. The corner approached before she knew it, looming out of the darkness, and she saw again the headlights flooding the car, heard Jake’s shout of surprise, and then the terrible bang and the sound of metal twisting. A shiver ran through her as they travelled over the spot where her husband had died.

Now here she was on the same road going to the same place where her friend, the man she cared for, was lying possibly gravely ill. Please don’t let Marcus die, she whispered to no one. I can’t do this again.

“Abby! shouted Raven as Abby pushed through the doors of the emergency room. “You made it.” She pulled Abby into a hug, and when she stood back Abby could see her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

“How is he?” said Abby, her pulse throbbing in her ears.

“He’s okay. Well, he’s ill, but he’s not critical or anything like that. They just told me.”

“Oh, thank God.” Tears of relief spilled down Abby’s face and Raven hugged her again. “Can I see him?”

“Not yet. They’re moving him to a private room and they said they’d let me know if and when we can see him.”

“Okay.” Abby put her hand on her heart to try and calm it. “What happened?”

“Let’s sit down. Can I get you a coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Raven came back with two coffees and they sat in the waiting room sipping them.

“I came up today from Minneapolis. There were some papers he had to sign and other things and we figured it would be easier if I just came up with everything and we got it all done in one go. Thank God I came when I did.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t answer his buzzer so I called his phone but there was still no answer. I pressed the hell out of that buzzer thing until I thought it would run out of juice but there was still no answer. I was worried because he was expecting me.” She took a deep breath, had a sip of her coffee. “In the end his neighbour let me in and she had a spare key for emergencies so we went into his apartment and he was lying on the floor.”

“Oh, my God!” Abby clutched Raven’s hand. An image of Marcus lying alone and unnoticed on his floor lodged in her mind and she couldn’t shift it.

“Yeah. He was still breathing but he was pale and clammy and he wasn’t conscious. I called 911 and they brought him here and as soon as I could I called you.”

“I’m glad you did. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Of course. He’d want you to be here.” Raven smiled and gripped Abby’s hand.

“What do they think has happened?”

“It’s his heart again.”

“Again?” Abby was puzzled. Marcus had never mentioned any heart problems. He’d told her about his panic attack, but that was all.

“Yeah, don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“Aah. Erm, well I don’t know if it’s up to me to tell you if he hasn’t.”

“Raven, come on! You think enough about me to call me here. What’s the problem with his heart?”

“I really think he should tell you himself, Abby, I’m sorry. All I’ll say is that bitch Rebecca has a lot to answer for. Do you know about her?” she said, suddenly realising she might have let another secret slip.

“Yes, I know all about her and what she did to him.”

“She still hangs around like a goddamned bad smell. She acts like she did nothing wrong. It’s all I can do not to punch her in the face when I see her.”

Abby smiled despite herself. Raven was small and young but feisty, and Abby had no doubt she would punch Rebecca and probably knock her lights out if she did. Hell, she’d do it herself if she ever saw the woman. “I cried when he told me. I couldn’t believe anyone could be that cruel.”

“We all cried, believe me. Mr Kane was devastated, but he wouldn’t let it show. Just walked around with his nose in the air like nothing had happened. I think he was in denial at first, and then he just went into business mode, trying to save the company. He never let his emotions out, and that’s why...” she broke off.

Abby nodded. She thought she understood what Raven was reluctant to say. Marcus had suffered a heart attack or some kind of cardiac event as a result of what happened with Rebecca. Why hadn’t he told her about it?

“He thinks everyone pities him and he hates that, but they don’t, not really,” continued Raven. “It’s love, not pity. Everyone feels for him, cares for him, but he won’t believe it. Stubborn ass.”

Raven’s words hit home for Abby. Pity. Something she and Marcus had in common, a hatred of it, a fear of it almost. When she thought about Marcus and his situation did she feel pity for him? Compassion was a better word. She’d felt compassion for him and that’s what he’d felt for her. He’d learned about her situation and maybe he’d recognised in her what he saw in himself. She’d overreacted to what he’d done and, oh God! Was she the cause of this? Had she caused him so much distress he’d had a heart attack!

Something in her face must have alerted Raven because the girl put her hand to Abby’s face, stroked her cheek. “Are you okay?”

Abby grabbed Raven’s hand. “Have I caused this?” she said quietly.

“What? No. Why would you?”

“We had a falling out a few days ago. It was... a misunderstanding really. I told him I needed some space. Maybe he thought I was... I don’t know.”

“Abby, I don’t know what went on but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because it was his bitch ex-wife. That’s why I was up here. I can’t tell you everything, but she’s trying to get the annulment reversed, saying he coerced her into it.”

“Oh, God! Is there no end to what she’ll do?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

Raven took Abby’s hand again. “Whatever falling out you had, I know that he cares for you. He thinks you’re the bee’s knees.” She smiled. “He never stops talking about you. It’s a goddamn bore truth be told.” She laughed softly.

Huge sobs escaped Abby. “That’s why I think it might be me, though. He thinks I’m going to abandon him.”

“I doubt that, but I’m sure he’ll tell you himself when he wakes up.”

They sat quietly for a while, drinking coffee, talking now and then about the festival, anything to keep their minds occupied. Abby called Mrs Larson who agreed to stay over with Clarke.

Finally, a consultant approached Raven.

“Ms Reyes? You can see Mr Kane now.”

“Oh, good, thank you. How is he?”

“He’s fine. He’s resting, so don’t stay long. I doubt he’ll wake, but if he does, keep him calm.”

“Thank you.” They followed the consultant to a room along the hallway and Raven stopped at the door.

“You go in,” she said to Abby.

“Don’t you want to see him?”

“I’ll see him later. I’m pretty sure if he wakes up he’d rather see your pretty face than my ugly mug.”

Abby kissed Raven’s cheek. “You’re a wonderful girl. Thank you.”

She pushed open the door with trepidation, not sure what to expect. Marcus was lying in the bed beneath white sheets. His arms were out and by his side. He was hooked up to a couple of monitors but there were no tubes coming out of him or anything scary looking. His eyes were closed. She approached the bed, took his hand and kissed it, then she leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Hi,” she said. “It’s me, Abby.”

His face was pale and there were black circles under his eyes. She pulled a chair up next to him and sat down, taking his hand in hers.

“What have you been doing you loon?” she said, stroking the back of his hand. “I leave you for five minutes.” She started crying then, and she brought his hand to her lips and kissed it all over.

When she’d composed herself, Abby sat back and watched him breathing. Why hadn’t he told her about his heart? Too humiliating again perhaps. He didn’t like to be seen as weak and vulnerable, but it was his humanity that drew her to him. When he’d told her he was a mess too underneath it all it wasn’t really that much of a surprise. She’d sensed it, maybe not from the start but once she’d started talking to him. His suit was a cloak of armour, shielding him from the world around him, protecting him. Underneath his snooty gaze and stiff demeanour he was soft and caring but it was as though he thought those emotions too were a sign of weakness.

They were two travellers along the same road. How far would they travel together? How far did she want to go with him? Further, yet. She wanted to enjoy the journey, see where it led. She’d never thought she would be in love again but looking at him she was filled with it. Did he feel the same? That day in Pizzeria Lola she’d thought she’d seen it when he looked at her, and that was part of the reason why he’d run away, unable to face it himself.

“We’re idiots,” she whispered to him.

Raven came in with the consultant who said they had to leave and let Marcus get some rest, and Abby reluctantly agreed to go. Raven drove her back to Arkadia Falls, not saying anything when Abby insisted on sitting in the back and told her to drive well within the speed limit. The journey wasn’t quite as terrifying as the one going, but Abby was grateful to be back in her own bed at the end of the night all the same. She would return to the hospital the next day on the bus with Clarke.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby visits Kane, and he gets advice from an unexpected source

Abby made her way to Saint Croy the next day on the bus, clutching tightly to Clarke for comfort. Raven texted her while she was on route to tell her Marcus was awake and that she was with him. Abby was glad. She hadn’t wanted him to wake up alone. If she hadn’t had Clarke to think about she’d have stayed with Marcus last night, but she couldn’t leave her daughter overnight and she’d already imposed on Mrs Larson enough.

She felt nervous as she approached his hospital room. When they’d last seen each other they’d both been upset, and she’d told him she needed space. Part of her felt guilty for that, despite Raven’s reassurances that she wasn’t the cause of his condition. It can’t have helped, and that made her feel awful.

Raven must have seen Abby at the door because she opened it and Abby was able to push Clarke in with ease.

“Morning, Abby,” she said, giving Abby a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to grab something to eat and drink.” She turned to Marcus who was sitting up in the bed, his face pale, his eyes looking heavy and sunken. “I’ll be back later.”

Marcus nodded, and then he smiled weakly at Abby. “Hi,” he said.

“Hey.” Abby walked over to him, took his hand in hers and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “No, really.”

Marcus drew a heavy breath. “I’m tired more than anything.”

Abby sat on his bed next to him, put her hand on his cheek, stroked him gently. “Silly you,” she said, and she placed a soft kiss at the edge of his mouth.

“Mama, mama, out!” Clarke was straining to get out of her stroller, and Abby went over to her. She took her out and stripped off her snow suit.

“Someone else wants to see you,” she said to Marcus, and she sat Clarke next to him on the bed.

“Hey, Clarke,” he said, and he put his hand on her head, stroked her hair.

“Say hello to Marcus.”

Clarke looked up shyly at Marcus and he smiled down at her. “Lo Mar Mar,” she said.

“That’s right,” said Abby. “Give Mar Mar a kiss.”

Clarke clambered onto Marcus, grabbed his cheeks and kissed him sloppily on the lips. She sat back on his stomach and Marcus held her hands. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. “I missed you.”

A tear rolled down Abby’s face and she brushed it away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s not your fault.” Marcus swung Clarke’s arms from side to side, pulled faces at her, and she laughed.

“Don’t tire yourself out,” said Abby, worried that he was overexerting himself.

“It’s fine.” He gave her a smile that was tight-lipped, the way he used to look at her, before they were friends. Abby’s heart sank. He was upset with her or had resigned himself to his fate. She had to put it right. She should tell him how she felt, somehow.

“What happened?” she said instead. “Raven said it was your heart again.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

“She thought I knew about it, don’t be mad with her.”

“I’m not mad. I don’t have the energy for mad.”

“So you’ve had heart problems before?”

Marcus sighed. “Yes. After Rebecca I had a cardiac event, as they called it. Turned out I’d been having a series of really small heart attacks that I couldn’t even feel but they were scarring my heart, and then I had a larger episode, ended up in hospital.”

Abby’s own heart swelled with emotion at his words. Rebecca had literally broken his heart! She took his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know me by now,” he said with a shrug. He planted a kiss on Clarke’s nose, smiled lovingly at her. Abby’s heart thumped in her chest.

She stroked his hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it. “I want you to tell me everything in future.”

Marcus looked at her. His eyes were dull in comparison to when he was looking at Clarke. It was as though he wasn’t interested or couldn’t be bothered with her. “Do we have a future?” he said.

“Yes. Yes. I was... I was calling you yesterday so we could talk, but obviously....” She gestured to his hospital bed.

“I don’t know who I am anymore, or what I want. Rebecca is...” Marcus tailed off.

“Raven mentioned something. I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m sorry she’s hurting you like this.”

“I feel...numb.” His hand lay limply within Abby’s grasp. He put his head back, closed his eyes.

“You need time. You’ve had a shock, and I haven’t helped. I’m sorry that I walked out on you. I should have stayed and listened to you, but I was so upset. It was an overreaction; I see that now. You did nothing wrong. I was just surprised, and hurt, I guess. Stupidly.”

Marcus opened his eyes, sat straighter again. “You’re not stupid, and you were right to be upset. I knew it would come back to bite me one day; it was just a matter of time. I was curious, that’s all, and I never thought I’d speak to you, let alone become friends.”

“I know. I know that now. I was curious about you too.”

“Were you?” He brightened a little and a smile tugged at his lips. “What were you thinking?”

“I thought you were a funeral director,” Abby said with a soft laugh.

“A what?”

“A funeral director, you know, that you had a funeral home or something.”

Marcus pulled a surprised face at Clarke, who batted him on the nose. “What made you think that?”

“Just you were always very serious and kind of upright and your clothes, you know, the suit, and everything dark. I just figured. It was just idle speculation.”

“A funeral director!” Marcus laughed. “Mama has a vivid imagination, Clarke.”

This time when he smiled at Abby there was some light in his eyes. Abby was in an agony over whether to tell him how she felt about him truly, deep down. He looked so lost, so vulnerable. He seemed to be mired in depression, which wasn’t a surprise, especially after heart problems, never mind everything else he was having to put up with. He should know that he’s loved, but was it the right time to tell him? Did she want to cross that line? What would it mean for their relationship?

If you tell someone you love them, that you’re in love with them, and they feel the same way, then that’s it, there’s no going back. You have to move forward, to date, to kiss, to one day make love. You have to open yourselves to each other completely. He would be a father to Clarke, a partner for Abby. They might live together, share their lives. Was she ready for all of that?

“Are you okay?” Marcus said, and he squeezed her hand.

“Yes, I... Marcus, I.”

The sound of the door opening intruded upon them, and the scent of gardenias wafted in. Abby saw Marcus’s face fall, and she turned to see the woman from the river walk that day standing in the doorway, staring at them.

“Hi, mom,” said Marcus.

Mrs Kane looked at Abby, then switched her gaze back to Marcus who still had Clarke sitting on his lap. Abby realised she and Marcus were still holding hands. She dropped his hand, then leaned forward and picked Clarke up, depositing her on her knee.

“Marcus.” Mrs Kane manoeuvred around Abby and gave Marcus a kiss on his cheek. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m okay. Erm, this is Abby and Clarke,” he said, gesturing to them. “Abby, this is my mom, Vera Kane.”

“Hello, Mrs Kane,” said Abby, holding her hand out and smiling.

“Vera, please. It’s nice to meet you at last, Abby.” She took Abby’s hand and shook it loosely. “And this is the child.” She looked at Clarke, nodding slightly.

“Her name is Clarke,” said Marcus, which made Abby smile inwardly as she remembered telling him the same thing when they first spoke. She could see where he got his stiffness from, that air of condescension he had, although not so much with her now.

Abby stood, put Clarke on her hip. “Please take my chair, Vera.”

“Thank you.” Vera sat down, put her large handbag on the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it,” said Abby, and she put Clarke in her stroller.

“Don’t go,” said Marcus, a desperate look on his face.

“I’m going to get a drink, give you some time with your mom.” She winked at him and smiled when his eyes narrowed. “I’ll be back.”

Marcus sighed and nodded, and Abby left the room.

\---

“Nothing going on with Abby, hmmm?”

“Don’t start, mom.” Kane adjusted his cover, smoothed the sheet. He was thinking about Abby’s face a moment ago. She’d seemed distracted, her face a series of twitches as she thought something through. She’d been about to say something before Vera had walked in, but what?

“I’m not, I’m not.” Vera held up her hands in surrender. “The child...”

“Clarke.”

“Clarke. Is sweet.”

“Yes.”

Vera regarded him. “It looks good on you,” she said.

“What does?”

“Fatherhood.”

Kane ran his hands over his face, rubbed his eyes. “I’m not her father.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Kane sighed loudly so his mother would get the message. “I’m supposed to keep calm,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry; I’ll stop now. What has happened, son?” She looked at him with such love and concern that Kane’s stomach lurched into his throat and he realised he was going to cry and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Vera sat on the bed next to him, put her arms around him and pressed him to her bosom. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Shush now,” she whispered as Kane sobbed.

“She’s killing me,” he croaked.

“No, she’s not. She’s not, Marcus. I won’t let her.”

“You can’t do anything.”

Vera pulled back, put her hand on his chin to force him to look at her. “You listen to me, Marcus. I’ve sat back while all this has gone on, let you deal with it yourself. And you’ve done a wonderful job. You have,” she said as Kane shook his head. “You saved the company, you divorced her. I should have supported you more, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt the need to run up here.”

“That had nothing to do with you.”

“Of course it did. I’m your mother. You should have sought solace in me, but I wasn’t available emotionally.”

“Have you been seeing that therapist again?” Kane smiled to show he was trying to lighten the mood.

“I have as a matter of fact, and he’s been very insightful. I was worried about you. I worried what you might do to yourself stuck up here alone, away from your family.”

“I would never,” said Kane, even though he had thought about it, more than once.

“What I’m trying to say, Marcus, if you’ll let me finish, is I was wrong. Yes, I know that’s not something you hear often from me, so you can wipe that smirk off your face.”

Kane held up his hands as though he was innocent, although a smile had crept onto his face at his mother’s words. Vera was notorious for not admitting guilt or wrongdoing. She’d argue night was day even if the sky was black and all the stars were out.

“I must make a note of the date,” he said.

Vera gave him a long stare, designed to make lesser men quake in their boots. “If it makes you happy to be here. If it reduces your stress, keeps you calm, then I think you should stay as long as you need to.”

Kane was moved by her words. It would have taken her some effort to say them, to bring herself to this conclusion, because he was pretty sure if he said he was coming home she’d be at his condo packing up his belongings before he’d even dragged himself from his hospital bed.

“I appreciate that, mom, but I’m not giving up the company.”

“I’m not saying you should, but you can delegate some things, and me and your uncle Martin will take care of Rebecca.”

Kane shook his head. “She’s not your problem.”

“She’s all our problem. We’ll sort her out together.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Kane was relieved to have her support, even though he wasn’t sure what any of them were going to do to get rid of Rebecca from their lives once and for all. “I didn’t coerce her into the annulment; she can’t have any proof to back up her claim.”

“Of course you didn’t. She’s trying it on. Let her try. She hasn’t seen the full force of the family Kane yet, has she?” Vera patted his arm, and Kane nodded.

He closed his eyes and the next time he opened them, Vera was flicking through a magazine and Abby was pushing Clarke into the room.

“Oh, sorry to wake you,” Abby said.

“I was only dozing.” He smiled, because he’d been off with her before, and he could tell she felt responsible for what had happened. That was the last thing he wanted. He’d been upset by her walking out on him, but when he’d calmed down he’d realised she was absolutely within her rights to never want to see him again. He’d worried she’d hand her notice in, wouldn’t have blamed her, but she’d carried on working, sending him festival-only emails, but still signing them off ‘Yours, Abby’. That had given him hope.

Abby pulled up a chair next to Vera and sat with Clarke on her knee. Kane looked at them; two feisty women with the same look of concern on their faces. He was screwed.

“Marcus tells me you’re a writer, Abby,” said Vera.

“I’m trying to be.” Abby looked at Vera shyly.

“Abby is a writer. She’s finished the first draft of her novel. It’s fantastic,” said Kane.

“Have you got a publisher?”

“We sent a synopsis to one of Marcus’s contacts,” said Abby.

“Charles Pike,” said Marcus. “He’s interested.”

“I just have to finish my second draft. It’s nearly there.”

“Pike’s a good choice. He’s an ass of a human being but he’s a great publisher,” said Vera.

“Mom!” Kane was surprised at his mother’s candidness about Pike.

“What? You know he is, Marcus.”

“Well, I do, but I didn’t think you did. I thought you liked him.”

“It’s called diplomacy, son. Something you’ve never been very good at. You show your distaste for people too easily.”

Kane saw Abby smile and then try to hide it by kissing Clarke’s hair.

“I’m not interested in false politeness, that’s all. What’s the point?”

“The point is, it’s what makes the world go round. Now, Abby,” said Vera, turning to look at her. “Tell me about yourself, dear.”

Kane learned a few new things about Abby during Vera’s skilful interrogation, which Abby took with good grace. He played with Clarke while he listened, and the child fell asleep on his chest. Kane stroked her soft blonde hair and thought about his mother’s words of earlier. Should he make a life for himself up here, whether he and Abby became more than friends or not? He had to start making changes, that much was obvious.

The door opened, and the consultant entered. “There’s a lot of people in here,” he said. “Mr Kane is supposed to be resting.”

“I’ll go,” said Abby and she started to rise.”

“No, it’s fine.” Kane stayed her with a wave of his hand. “I’m the calmest I’ve been in a long time. Check the monitors.”

“We’ve been monitoring you. I want to do some more tests this afternoon but all being well you can go home tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Marcus,” said Vera.

“Thank you,” said Kane.

“You’re going to need rest, lots of it. I’m putting you under house arrest for a week. No going out in the cold, no strenuous activities. Do you have someone who can help you with that?”

“Yes,” said Vera. “He has me.”

Kane looked at Abby, trying to will her to step in and help him; anything other than a week with his mother. That would definitely see him off. Abby frowned at him, and he gave her a small nod.

“Erm, I can look after Marcus. It’s not a problem.”

“There’s no need for that, dear,” said Vera.

“It makes more sense, mom. We work together and she’ll probably be around all the time anyway.”

“No working!” said the consultant.

“Believe me, not working at all will be more stressful than doing some small tasks alongside Abby,” said Kane, determined the consultant wasn’t going to railroad him into accepting his mother’s offer.

“If you’re sure,” said Vera, in a tone that indicated she was put out.

“You know we’d kill each other after a day, mom.”

“Very well,” she huffed. “I’ll stay in a hotel for a day or so, make sure everything’s okay.

“Perfect,” said Kane with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

The consultant left, and Vera turned to Abby. “Can you give me a moment with my son, dear?”

“Of course. I’ll go and find Raven.”

When she’d left, Vera leaned in towards Kane, smiled at him, put her hand on his cheek and stroked it softly. “About Abby,” she said.

“Mom,” said Kane in a voice meant to deter her from any derogatory comments.

“No, listen. I like her, what I’ve seen. She’s not like Rebecca. Not like any of your previous girlfriends, the ones I know about at least. I think that’s probably a good thing. She’ll keep you on your toes.” She sat back and looked at Kane in such a way he felt like he was a specimen beneath a microscope. “If she’s what you want, her and her child, then I won’t try and persuade you otherwise, not that I could anyway.” She smiled briefly, then turned serious.

“But I think you should take things slowly. You need to recover, Marcus. From this, and from Rebecca. Don’t jump in quickly because you’re lonely. From what little you’ve told me she deserves someone who will take proper care of her and the baby. Make sure that’s what you want to do before you start anything. That’s all I have to say.”

“I. I feel a lot for her,” Kane said, surprised that he was opening up to his mother like this. “But I’m scared to give in to that. I don’t want to be hurt again. Look what happens.” He gestured to the monitors that showed his damaged heart to anyone that looked.

“Anything worth doing is a risk. You know that. Your relationship with Rebecca was exceptional. I don’t know Abby obviously, but she doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would put you through that.”

“There’s lots of different ways to be hurt.”

“Yes. We all face them, Marcus. You’re not special, and neither is she. You might get hurt; you might hurt her, but if you don’t take risks then you’ll be on your own the rest of your life. That’s fine if that’s what you want, but you have a lot to give, and someone out there will one day need what you have. Maybe it’s Abby; maybe it’s someone else. Think about it.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus arrives home from hospital, and Abby is waiting. Is today the day they admit their feelings?

Abby and Raven were finishing putting up Clarke’s cot in Marcus’s spare room when he arrived home with his mother. They went out to greet him. He looked paler than ever to Abby, but the dark circles had gone from beneath his eyes at least. Vera sat him on the sofa and Abby covered him with a blanket. Marcus looked at the three women and a baby who were looking down on him.

“I don’t know if I’ve died and gone to heaven or hell,” he said with a smirk.

“It will definitely be hell if you keep talking like that,” said Abby. She deposited Clarke in the playpen in the corner of the room then went into the kitchen to make Marcus a herbal tea. Raven and Vera followed her in.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay, dear?” said Vera, opening Marcus’s cupboards and peering inside.

“I’ll be fine.”

“He’s finicky, you know,” said Raven. “Very exacting.”

“I can handle him.”

Raven laughed but said nothing.

“I’m going to go to the store and stock up his cupboards,” said Vera, fastening her coat.

“I’ll come with you,” said Raven. “I’ll get him some books to read.”

When they’d gone, Abby handed Marcus his tea and sat on the sofa next to him.

“How are you feeling honestly?” she said.

“Tired, honestly.” He sipped the tea. “This is nice.”

“You need to rest like the doctor said.”

“I’m sorry I put this on you. You don’t have to stay. I just didn’t want my mother here all the time. That would have finished me off.”

“Of course I’m staying. I’ve put that damned cot up now!”

Marcus smiled and Abby took his hand, laced her fingers through his. “I’m here for you,” she said.

“Thank you.”

They watched Clarke playing in the pen. “She’s getting too big for that now,” said Abby. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when she’s running around all the time.”

“She’s brought light to my life. You both have,” said Marcus, his words unexpected and causing Abby’s heart to leap out of her chest.

“She loves you,” she said, her pulse racing. “I. I love you.” She looked up at him nervously, not sure exactly what she meant by that or how he would take it, but he needed to know, didn’t he, after what he’d been through? A small crease appeared in the centre of his forehead as he looked at her.

“I love you too,” Marcus said, and it was written plain on his face, in his warm smile and his dark eyes that were so soft when he looked at her.

Tears formed in Abby’s eyes. Her heart was thumping, her limbs tingling. “What do we do with this?”

“I’m not sure.” Marcus brushed a tear from her cheek.

“I’m... I’m not ready for, you know, anything, erm, too...” She trailed off, not certain what she was or wasn’t ready for.

“Neither am I,” he said, gesturing at his body still covered by the blanket.

“We take it slow, then?”

“Yes.” He leaned across and kissed her softly on the mouth.

His lips were warm and supple and Abby responded, put her hand on his cheek. She parted her lips in a soft moan and deepened the kiss. He tasted like he smelled, of herbs and warm spices. His thumb was brushing her cheek, his fingers tangled in her hair. It had been so long since she’d been touched lovingly like this. It was overwhelming.

Marcus moaned, and then he drew back. “You’re supposed to be keeping me calm,” he whispered. His face that was so pale a few moments ago was now flushed.

“Sorry.”

He kissed her hair. “Don’t be sorry. That was amazing.”

“Yes. It was.” Abby’s heart felt so full, and then she was suffused with guilt. It came upon her suddenly, and every nerve in her body felt it. She wasn’t supposed to be kissing another man. She’d promised herself to Jake and she’d thought he was her one and only. What did it mean to be falling in love with someone else? To feel good when he touched her, to desire him? Her feelings must be showing on her face because Marcus looked concerned.

“There’s no need to rush,” he said. “Or do anything we don’t feel ready for.”

Abby nodded. Marcus held his arm out, and she moved closer to him, rested her head against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths, the fast beating of his broken heart. He stroked her hair. “We’re in this together,” he murmured, and she felt his lips press against her head, and rest there, his touch warm and comforting.

\---

Kane sat as still as he could, his face buried in Abby’s hair. His arm was around her and her head was a comforting weight against his chest. His heart was thumping after their kiss, which she must be able to feel, but she was silent now. A million things must be going through her mind as they were through his. His mother’s words about not jumping in, taking his time, making sure this was what he wanted floated somewhere at the back of his mind, but at the front was the memory of the kiss.

He’d meant to seal their declarations with a chaste peck on her lips, but she’d sighed and opened her mouth and then God, it was hot and sweet and intimate, and all the breath left his body. She smelled like summer, like crushed green leaves, and it was all he could do not to kiss every part of her face, to taste her, to breathe her in. He’d had to pull away, because she was arousing him, and he needed his blood in his heart, not anywhere else.

He’d never expected her to tell him she loved him, and when she had it had been the most natural thing in the world to say the same, because it was true. Sometimes your heart wants what it wants, no matter how damaged it is, whether your head agrees or not. If they took it slowly, then they’d have time to really get to know each other. He hoped her silence didn’t mean she was regretting it. She’d looked surprised and happy in the instant following the kiss and then her face had changed, and she’d turned pale.

It would be hard for her, being with another man after Jake. Marriage means forsaking all others for the rest of your lives together, at least it had for him, and presumably Abby. They’d both still been in love when their relationships ended, but Kane’s feelings had changed over time. He felt no guilt about starting another relationship; his only concerns were for himself and Abby. Abby loved Jake; was probably still in love with him. It would feel like cheating, perhaps.

Kane stroked her arm, marvelling that he was able to do this, to touch her like this, whenever he wanted. If that’s what she still wanted.

“Are you okay?” he said.

She shifted in his arms, sat up straighter so she could look at him. “Yes. It’s a lot, emotionally, but yes. I want to do this.”

“I’m glad.”

“Are you sure you want this? Me and Clarke? We’re a pair.”

“More than anything.” Kane kissed her forehead. “You’ve been a pair since day one; since I first saw you in the coffee shop taking care of her and trying to write.  It’s always been both of you.”

Abby’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, and she blinked to try and keep them at bay. “Is that how long you’ve, erm, thought like this about me?”

“Thought about you yes; fallen in love with you I’m not sure. I denied it to myself for a while but over Christmas I definitely knew. I wanted to be with you and Clarke so much. I didn’t think you’d want that though.”

“I did want it. I was disappointed when you said you were going to Minneapolis, but I told myself you didn’t want to spend Christmas with a widow and a baby.” She laughed softly.

“I want to spend all my time with you. Eventually,” he added, not wanting to put pressure on either of them when this was all so new.

“Maybe this week will be a test. See how you survive us messing up your house.”

“I’m more worried about all the bad habits I have that you’re about to discover.”

“Do you leave your worn underpants on the bathroom floor?”

“You assume I wear underpants.” Kane wiggled his eyebrows at Abby who laughed.

“I’ve seen you in them, remember.”

“Oh, yes. Well, that was when we were just friends. I’ll probably feel freer now.”

“You’re an idiot.” Abby kissed him softly on the lips. “You make me laugh. I think it’s one of the things I love about you the most.”

“I never thought I’d make anyone laugh again,” said Kane, whose entire body was bathed in warmth from their conversation and the way she was looking at him.

“Well, you do me. You’re surprisingly funny for a funeral director.” She dodged away from him, a huge grin on her face.

Kane thought his heart would explode with the love he felt for her, so long denied, and now it was able to run free there was no stopping it. It was too late to take his time, to not jump in. It had been too late for a while now.

“I’ll take funny funeral director over diligent one.” He grabbed her, pulled her towards him and kissed her again. They were both breathless when they parted.

“Your heart,” Abby whispered, as she pressed kisses to his nose and cheeks.

“At least we know it’s still working.”

The door to Kane’s apartment opened and Raven walked in. Abby and Kane sprang apart, but not before Raven saw them. She raised an eyebrow, put her tongue in her cheek and nodded.

“I knew it!” she said.

“Knew what, dear?” Vera followed her in, laden down with grocery bags.

Abby sprang up, went to take the bags off her. “Let’s put these away, shall we?” Kane saw her give Raven a look that told her to keep quiet, and then she disappeared into the kitchen with his mother.

Raven stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. “You’re feeling better then?”

“Abby is taking good care of me.”

“I bet she is.” She sat on the sofa next to him, patted his knee. “You old dog.”

“Less of the old!”

“I’m happy for you. She’s awesome.”

“She is, yes.”

“You deserve it.” Raven kissed his cheek, then she rummaged in her bag and deposited a stack of books on Kane’s lap. “I got you these to keep you occupied but I guess you’ll have other things to do.”

“There won’t be any of that for a while, not that it’s any of your business.” Kane looked through the pile. “I’m under doctor’s orders.”

“Since when have you ever done what you’re told?”

“Since when have YOU? Worst secretary in Minnesota.”

“Worst boss.”

They jostled each other and Kane smiled as he flicked through one of the books she’d bought him. “Thanks for these.”

“There’s one in there you can read to Clarke.”

“What? History of Wolves?”

Raven rolled her eyes at his pathetic joke. “It’s called Don’t Make Me Cross. It’s about being naughty.” She grinned.

“Not encouraging it, I hope!”

“No, but I sincerely hope she runs rings around you.”

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” said Kane, finding the book and looking through it.

“You have to ask?” Raven stood and sighed. “I have to go back to Minneapolis now. My boss is a tyrant who keeps me chained to my desk.”

“Yes, go. Someone needs to be running that place.”

“It’s what I’ve always done.” She leaned forward, kissed his head. “Look after that big, stupid heart.”

“I will.”

\---

Vera had left reluctantly late that afternoon and Abby had prepared a dinner stuffed so full of antioxidants Marcus said he was going to turn into a vegetable if she stayed around much longer, whilst eating everything on his plate with surprising relish for someone supposed to be ill.

Now, they were sitting on the sofa with Clarke in her pyjamas between them.

“Raven bought a book for Clarke,” Marcus said, pulling one out of the huge pile that was on the side table next to him and showing it to Abby. She took it and flicked through it.

“This looks fine,” she said.

“Do you want to read it to her tonight?”

He was looking down at Clarke as he spoke, watching her nurse her doll. A lump came to Abby’s throat and she swallowed it down. She was going to have to get used to this, to sharing Clarke, even if it was only for this week, and definitely if she and Marcus were to have a future together.

“Why don’t you read it to her,” she said, her pulse racing.

“Are you sure?” Marcus looked at her with that crease in his forehead.

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Do you want a story, Clarke?” he said.

Clarke looked up at him. “Book. Yes.” She clambered onto his lap and Marcus looked at Abby, his expression a mixture of happiness and uncertainty. She smiled to show him it was okay, and he bent his head towards Clarke and opened the book.

Abby watched as he read to her. He did all the voices, hesitantly at first, and then he got into his stride. Clarke played with her doll but was happy sitting on his knee, secure with Marcus’s arm to protect her. There’d been so many emotions today Abby felt dazed. She was happy to see Clarke so comfortable with Marcus, and sad that it wasn’t with Jake. He was her father, but she was never going to call him daddy. That was going to be Marcus; she could see it now. There was no denying it.

She couldn’t deny Clarke this, as hard as it was, nor would she want to. It would get easier as time went on, and that thought was also sad, because Jake would slip further and further away, until he was just a fading memory. It was so painful to grieve and find happiness at the same time. Could the two coexist? They’d have to. She’d have to find a way to accommodate her grief and her love for Jake with her joy and her love for Marcus.

“Gen!” said Clarke.

“What does that mean?” said Marcus.

“She wants you to read it again.”

“You’ve just heard the story, Clarke. It won’t change.” He looked at her as though Clarke would understand what he’d said, consider it, and agree it was a reasonable point to make.

“Gen! Gen!”

“Welcome to parenting,” said Abby, and Marcus looked at her with pride, love, fear, amusement and pretty much every emotion under the sun.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Marcus really should be taking it slowly...

Three days into Kane’s confinement and large areas of his condo had changed beyond recognition. His refrigerator now had more milk and bottles of juice than wine or champagne. It was stuffed with fruit and vegetables and more hummus than he’d seen in his life. Both Abby and Clarke were addicted to the stuff and he was being fed a portion at every lunchtime meal because it was allegedly good for his heart along with the carrot, pepper and celery sticks he was also given. In fact, he and Clarke mostly ate the same meals only Kane’s portions were marginally larger than hers. There was no cheese in the fridge and no red wine in his cupboards. It was temporary and for his own good, according to Abby and his mom who had finally gone home.

His living room had the playpen and a box of Clarke’s toys in the corner. There were three piles of books stacked neatly on the coffee table according to whom they belonged and there was just enough room for two coasters for his mug and the one Abby had claimed as her own. There was laundry everywhere because Abby refused to use a dryer saying they were environmentally unfriendly which Kane couldn’t disagree with. However, Clarke seemed to go through approximately one hundred outfits per day and tiny vests and pants and leggings and t-shirts lived permanently on drying racks scattered throughout the apartment. Everything was neat and tidy; there was just a lot more of it than before. 

The air smelled of Abby’s perfume and Clarke’s baby powder. Kane wondered what it had smelled like before. Leftover take-out and stale red wine probably. In the seven or so months since he’d left Rebecca he’d got used to not having to think about anybody else, and fallen into a few bad habits. He had to remind himself daily not to fart whenever he felt like it or scratch in places no one else wanted to see. Clarke had no such qualms and regularly produced smells that Kane had only experienced after particularly bad nights out when he was a student. He’d changed a few of her diapers and thought that he was slowly getting desensitised to it. Abby didn’t seem to notice anymore, so he had hope for his own nose.

Kane had just woken from a nap when Abby came into the living room and deposited Clarke in the playpen. She came and sat next to Kane, looking at him with a big smile on her face.

“What are you looking so happy about?” said Kane, amused to see her childish glee.

“I just had a phone call,” she said.

“From whom?”

“Charles Pike.” Her grin was so wide it seemed to take up half her face and showed all her perfect white teeth.

“And?” said Kane, smiling himself in reaction to her, but frustrated because she was drawing this out and teasing him.

“And he definitely wants to publish my novel!” She squealed; a noise he’d never heard come out of Abby.

“That’s fantastic! Well done!”

“Thank you!”

She looked at him almost shyly and then leaned towards him. Kane moved towards her at the same time and kissed her softly before putting his arms around her and pulling her closer. It was still new to them both, the ability to touch each other whenever they wanted, to kiss. Kane felt like he had to ask permission and he thought Abby was the same.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, and her grip around him tightened. They held each other for a moment and then Kane pulled back. He put his hands on either side of her face, kissed her properly.

“I can’t believe it,” said Abby when they parted.

“I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. What kind of deal is he offering you?”

“I don’t know for sure. He wants to see me to discuss it.”

“We can go through your options beforehand. I know roughly what he should be offering you. Is he coming up here?”

“Erm, no. He wants me to go to Minneapolis.”

“Oh.” Kane’s heart sank at the thought of her going to the twin cities.

“Yeah. Maybe next week.” Her smile faded.

“How are you going to get there?”

“I’ll get the bus.”

“That’s hours, Abby.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“I’ll come with you.” Kane’s heart started to beat fast as he said those words. He’d vowed he wasn’t going to set foot in Minneapolis for at least a few months, if ever, but he couldn’t let Abby travel all that way on her own, and it would mean an overnight stay for her and Clarke.

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Marcus?” Abby stroked his cheek with her thumb.

“We can turn it into something fun,” he said, trying to sound happier than he was. “Stay overnight, maybe go to the Mall or the children’s museum.”

“Isn’t that in Saint Paul?”

“Yes.”

She frowned at him, her eyes searching his face. “We don’t have to decide now. I said I’d get back to him.” She ran her thumb over his bottom lip then kissed its trace. “Let’s celebrate the good news.”

“Sounds good to me. What are we doing?” Kane sat up straighter, threw off his blanket because it was starting to make him feel like an old man.

“No wine!” said Abby.

“Did I say wine?” Kane pretended to look put out. “Although, your kisses are like the finest wine.”

“You mean heavy and bitter,” said Abby laughing.

“Hmm. I need to remind myself.” Kane pulled her to him again and they ended up lying squashed together on the sofa, kissing. Kane willed himself not to get aroused, but it was impossible, because just being close to her set him on fire. She must be able to feel it, pressed up against him as she was, but she said nothing, and made no move to touch him.

He broke the kiss eventually, before the constriction in his pants became too painful. He hadn’t had much of a libido in the months since Rebecca. Depression, alcohol, and stress had combined to leave him uninterested for the most part. Now, when he wasn’t supposed to be raising his blood pressure or putting strain on his heart, sex was all he could think about. Thankfully, Clarke was in the room with him and Abby most of the time, oblivious, of course, and that usually put a dampener on his fire.

Abby laid her head on his chest, put her arm over him. Kane ran his fingers through her hair. “Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“What for?”

“For believing in me.”

Kane was lost for words at first, didn’t know how to respond. His chest tightened.

“In Duluth,” she continued, “your confidence gave me confidence.”

“I’m glad I helped,” he murmured into her hair, “but it’s all down to you.”

He felt her smile as an exhale of air against his chest. “I’m going to make us something special for dinner, to celebrate.”

She sat up and Kane reluctantly raised himself into a sitting position. “I should be making dinner for you. It’s your success we’re celebrating.”

“When you’ve had the all clear you can make me dinners for a week. Until then...” She kissed him then stood, and Kane watched her head to the kitchen, ruffling Clarke’s hair as she passed.

He could make her dinners for a week? Was she planning on staying here longer? Did she see them spending every day together from now on, or was it just a casual comment with no real thought or meaning? Kane would happily make her dinner every night for the rest of their lives if that’s what she wanted.

\---

Abby prepared dinner in the kitchen, glad of the time to herself. She was still tingling from her make out session with Marcus. Sometimes over the last three days it had felt like they’d gone from zero to hot in no time at all, but she knew it wasn’t no time, for they’d been building to this since the early days in the coffee shop, and certainly since they’d come back from Duluth. Their kisses had grown hotter, their bodies responding to each other as they should. She felt bad for Marcus; he was aroused if she so much as looked at him, and then left high and dry. Well, they both were, so to speak.

She’d felt him earlier, warm and heavy against her thigh, his moans soft when she’d tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed the breath out of him. She’d been tempted to touch him, to make him jump beneath her hand, reach in, feel his warm, pulsing flesh. Jesus, Abby. Her head buzzed with desire and she shook it as though that would rid her of the thoughts. He wasn’t allowed to get excited, so anything more than what they were doing was out. She felt like a teenager again, having heated kisses and secret fumbles on the sofa while her parents were in the other room, or due back any moment from a shopping trip. Except there hadn’t been any fumbling, not yet.

She wanted it and felt guilty for wanting it. She was slowly coming to terms with having another man in her life in this way but making love with him was something else. It felt like a big deal, and she didn’t think she was quite ready to take the ultimate step. It still felt like a betrayal, deep down.

She finished the preparations and put the casserole in the oven. When she returned to the living room Marcus had taken Clarke out of the playpen and was sitting on the floor with her, pretending to feed her doll.

“You’re not supposed to be on the floor,” Abby said.

“We’re fine for a few minutes.”

“Five minutes, then it’s bedtime.”

“For me?” said Marcus, looking hopefully at her.

“I’m more than happy to put you down with Clarke and have a quiet evening to myself.” Abby sat on the floor with them and Clarke handed her a tiny plastic cup.

“Play, mama,” she said.

“Okay, baby. What are we doing?”

“I think we’re having a tea party,” said Marcus, pouring pretend water from the teapot into Abby’s cup.

“Oh, lovely. Thank you for my tea.” Abby took a sip while Clarke watched her. She held her hand out and Abby gave her the cup and Clarke pressed it to her mouth.

They played for much longer than the five minutes and then Abby put Clarke to bed and when she came out Marcus had set the table with candles and there was a jug of grape juice in the centre.

“I’m pretending it’s wine,” he said as he handed Abby a glass.

They clinked glasses together. “Congratulations again,” he said. “Here’s to The Cabin at Cloud River becoming a best seller.”

“There’s still a long way to go.”

“I know, but you’re on your way.” He kissed her, and their arms went around each other, glasses held in the air. Abby tilted her head back and Marcus kissed her neck, his lips gliding over her skin, teeth nipping delicately at her.

“Stop, stop,” breathed Abby.

He groaned. “Why?”

“The casserole.”

“Mmm. You’re tastier.” He kissed her again, and then he stood back with a sigh.

Abby went to the oven, opened it and hot air hit her, warming her already hot face. She pulled out the casserole and served them two bowls. Marcus lit the candles and they sat opposite each other.

“This feels like a date,” said Abby.

“Healthier than what we had on our first date,” said Marcus as he blew on the food and then tasted it. “Mmm. Not bad.”

Abby shook her head at him. “You sail close to the wind sometimes.”

“I get away with it because of my good looks.” He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

“So you count New Year’s Eve pizza night as a date, do you?” said Abby.

“Don’t you?”

“I suppose it was.”

“Not a very successful one, though.”

“Why not?”

“You fell asleep on me.”

“Ah, yes. That’s true.”

They smiled across the table at each other. Abby ate more of her casserole. It was ridiculous how easy they were together. She liked him so much, enjoyed his company. Even if they weren’t becoming more than friends, even if that didn’t work out, she couldn’t imagine not having him in her life anymore.

After dinner they watched a movie, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, popping grapes and picking holes in the plot. Abby had changed into her pjs to get comfy, but Marcus hadn’t yet followed through with his threat to walk around the apartment without underpants, and in fact so far had dressed in jeans and a t-shirt even when resting in bed. Abby could only presume he did change out of them when he went to sleep at night. She wasn’t sure what stopped him from relaxing further; Clarke perhaps.

The movie finished and Marcus clicked off the TV. It was dark in the room without its blue glow, the only light coming from the fire and the candles they’d brought through from the dining room.

“Are you tired?” said Marcus as he put his arm around her.

“Not yet. Are you?”

“No, I’m okay.”

He pulled her closer to him and Abby put her hand on his chest and lifted her head so she could capture his lips in a soft kiss.

“I’m enjoying you being here,” whispered Marcus.

“I’m enjoying being here.” She kissed him again, tasting the sweetness of the grapes.

Their tongues met and explored each other. They both moaned and pressed closer. Marcus lifted his legs onto the sofa so he was lying full length and Abby ended up half on top of him. He put his hands on her ass, lifting her a little so she rubbed against his erection which was straining within his pants.

“Aaah.” Abby let out a groan at the contact. Her hips pressed down involuntarily, and Marcus thrust up, his hands still gripping her ass, helping her slide up and down on him. “What are you doing?” Abby murmured, thinking they should stop this but not wanting to stop it at all because it felt so good and she was hot, wet, full of desire for him. Had been half the day.

“Shush.” He pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her hard so she couldn’t speak any further. He put his hands inside her pyjama bottoms, probing beneath her panties, taking a firm grip of the soft, warm flesh of her ass. He pulled her apart from behind so that the next time he pushed her along his length she got full contact, made even more delicious from the friction of her clothes and his jeans. She moaned into his mouth and didn’t stop moaning with every breath as he moved her faster and faster. God, she was going to come like this, still fully dressed, the only intimate contact his fingers pressing into her ass and his mouth greedily claiming hers.

“Marcus, Marcus,” she moaned, and he groaned when she said his name. She tangled her fingers in his hair, used her grip on his head to help him as he moved her, and the heat built up in her sex and her limbs. When she came it was part moan, part cry, and he pressed her down hard on him forcing every pulse of desire out of her. He groaned and sighed, and held her tight, his lips still devouring her, his tongue deep, deep, deep within her mouth.

“God,” she said when she had to come up for air. “God, what was that?”

He laughed softly. “Hot,” he said.

“Yeah.” Abby looked at him. He was smiling, his dark eyes heavy with lust and desire. “What about you?” she whispered, feeling greedy for taking what she needed and leaving him unsatisfied, but they weren’t supposed....

“You could touch me,” he said, his gaze penetrating, challenging.

“It’s not allowed.”

“It’s too late for that.”

It was too late. It would surely be more painful to leave him like this than to give him the release he so badly wanted and needed. She sat back, straddling his thighs, and watched his face as she reached down to unbutton his jeans. His mouth opened and he sucked in a deep breath in anticipation of her touch. He lifted his hips so she had room to push his jeans down enough to gain access. She reached into his boxers, grabbed his thick, heavy cock and pulled it out. His eyes, which were locked on hers, widened, and he let out a loud groan as she rubbed her palm over the head and then ran her fist down his long length all the way to the bottom. He closed his eyes, let his head fall back.

Abby looked down at his cock which was pulsing in her hand. It was beautiful; long and straight, the head smooth and pink and swollen with his desire. She ran her fist back up, rubbed her thumb over his slit and he jumped and moaned.

“God,” he said.

He opened his eyes and she watched him as she stroked him, gauging his reactions, learning what he liked the most. She put both hands on him and he thrust up into her fists. He liked a firm grip, nothing too delicate, and when she ran her finger round the soft flesh beneath the head he cried out, so she did it every few strokes until his eyes were closed and his breaths were short, and one more pass of her fist had him coming in hot spurts onto her hand and his belly where his t-shirt had ridden up, exposing warm olive skin and soft, dark hairs.

“God, Abby,” he said, and she leaned over and kissed him until he was moaning again.

“That was very naughty,” she said when she released him, and Marcus grinned.

“I don’t care. I needed it.”

“I know. I needed it too.” She kissed him again, then sat up. “I’d better clean up.”

She stood a long time at the kitchen sink, letting the warm water splash over her hands, washing the traces of him away. They’d crossed a line now, the first of many. They probably shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t even be kissing because it wasn’t good for his heart, but she found she didn’t regret it. Giving each other pleasure like this, well that’s what it was all about, wasn’t it? Making the person you love feel good. In this, and all things.

She returned to the living room to see Marcus had used a wet wipe to clean himself and was tucked back into his jeans. His face was flushed, his eyes bright and his hair flopping loose. He looked so happy and healthy it was easy to forget he was ill. She had to be mindful of that.

“Hey,” she said as she settled back into the scene of the crime.

“Hey.”

“Thank you for what you did.”

“Next time I want to touch you like you did me.” He kissed the side of her mouth, her cheek.

“We should be careful,” Abby said.

“We will be. I feel fantastic.”

“That’s the chemicals flooding your brain.”

“No, it’s you.”

Abby smiled, put her hand on his face. “I love you.”

Marcus took her hand, kissed the palm. “I love you too. I adore you.”

Abby’s heart beat faster if that were possible.

“Come to bed with me, stay the night,” Marcus said softly.

“I can’t. Clarke.”

“She’ll be fine.” He extricated himself from the sofa and held out his hand to Abby. She took it, let him pull her up.

“Not yet,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek. “I’m not quite there yet.”

“Okay.” He hugged her and they kissed again, and then Abby pulled away.

“Night, Marcus,” she said.

“Night, Abby. Sleep well.”

She left him in the living room, headed to the bedroom she shared with Clarke. Her daughter was fast asleep on her back, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Abby stroked her hand through the bar.

“Not yet,” she whispered, “but soon,” and then she got into bed and tried to fall asleep to the memory of Marcus’s touch.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby keeps a promise to Kane.

Kane woke late after a long, deep sleep that left him feeling refreshed and ready to face anything. He lay in bed, replaying the night before. He’d had a lot of sex over the years, covering all the spectrum from great, to good, to bad, to indifferent. He’d never experienced such a slow build-up before, such intensity, such desire. He’d thought for weeks now about sleeping with Abby, whether it would ever happen, what it would be like. Now, when the possibility was in his grasp, he found he wanted to take it slowly, to discover her inch by inch over time. Anticipation increased the pleasure. Finally, an upside to his heart problems.

The feel of her rubbing against him, Christ, it had been hot. How he hadn’t come there and then he didn’t know. She was so lovely, her cheeks flushed, her mouth warm and wet. To give her pleasure, to make her come for the first time was a fantastic feeling, and he hadn’t even touched her, not really. What would it be like when he did?

He’d thought he was ready for her touch, but he wasn’t ready for how clever her hands were, how closely she watched him, learning his needs, not letting a second go to waste. He’d known in that moment that he’d never truly been loved before, because no one had ever done that to him. No one had taken such care to make him feel good, to get it right, to be the best they could be. Abby was something else. He’d have to up his game next time they were together, take proper care of her, make sure he left her breathless.

He got up, showered, let the erection he’d been nursing since he woke dissipate beneath the cooling water. He wanted to save himself for Abby later. He dressed in his black jeans and green sweater then went out into the living room. Abby and Clarke were perched in a chair and both looked up at him and smiled as he approached. His body flushed with warmth. This was what he’d always wanted deep down; a family who loved him, who were happy to see him when he walked in the room.

“Morning,” he said, and he smiled back at them.

“Mar Mar play,” said Clarke and she got down off Abby’s knee and toddled over to him. He picked her up, swung her around.

“Let Marcus have his breakfast, Clarke,” said Abby.

“It’s okay. What do you want to play, Clarke?”

She got the tea set out again, so he went through the same moves as the day before, pouring pretend tea, eating pretend cakes.

“Why don’t we put some real food on those plates,” said Abby and she disappeared into the kitchen.

Kane felt bad momentarily that she was always cooking for him and Clarke, looking after them, but it was the bargain they’d made, and he helped her with Clarke, gave her time off to concentrate on work or her novel. He didn’t intend to let this situation continue once he was better, but for now he was enjoying being fussed over by Abby. In three days he was back at the hospital and if he was given the all clear then she would move back to her apartment with Clarke and Kane didn’t want to think about that.

They ate breakfast together and then Abby took Clarke out for a walk in the fresh air. Kane stood at his balcony window and watched as they passed along the riverbank. Abby looked up at him and waved, and he waved back. He read for a while, and when they returned he and Abby worked on the festival. Most things were in place now with only a few weeks left to go. He couldn’t wait for it to happen, to celebrate their triumph.

He heard her phone ring while she was in the kitchen making dinner and he was reading to Clarke. She came into the room five minutes later, apprehension on her face.

“What’s the matter?” said Kane.

“Nothing, really. That was Charles Pike. He’s fixed a date next week for me to meet with him. Thursday at two.”

“That’s great,” Kane tried to sound enthusiastic. He was, for Abby, but not for the trip to Minneapolis. “I’ll find a hotel, make a reservation.”

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want. I know it will be hard.”

“No, I want to. I do. It will be nice to get away with you both, like a mini vacation. Shall I book a couple of nights?”

“Why not.”

Kane put Clarke on the sofa next to him then took out his laptop. His natural instinct was to book a room at the Hilton. He had an account with them and could have the best room in minutes, but he wasn’t sure he’d feel comfortable there anymore. It was the kind of life he was trying to leave behind, plus he had Clarke to think about. What would be best for her? He found a boutique hotel downtown that was family-oriented and had a baby-sitting service.

“What do you think to here?” he said, showing his laptop to Abby.

“It looks great,” she said, scrolling through the pages. “Expensive, though.”

“I know, but it’s a treat. We deserve it, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. Yes, okay.” She kissed him and was about to move away when Kane caught her arm.

“They have a family room, where we can all be together.”

She looked closely at him. “In the same bed?”

“Well, Clarke would have her own bed.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “Are you trying to get me into bed again?”

“No, well yes, but just to be together, whatever happens. They have a babysitting service so we could have a meal out, just the two of us.”

She looked at Clarke then back at Kane. Her features were tense as she debated with herself, and then they relaxed into a smile. “Okay. Sounds lovely.”

Kane discarded his laptop on the coffee table and pulled Abby onto his knee. “Yeah?” he said, kissing the side of her mouth.

“Yeah,” she said, and she put her arms around his neck, captured his lips with hers, kissed him long and hard.

By the time the evening came around Kane was in a state of high anticipation. They’d had an early dinner and Abby was putting Clarke to bed. Neither of them had discussed what they were going to do that evening in any capacity, but there was a tension between them; it fizzed in his veins the way electricity crackled in the air before a thunderstorm.

Abby walked into the living room, took one look at Kane and rolled her eyes. “What?” she said, grinning.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing my ass.” She laughed.

Kane tried to look innocent, even though she’d already seen right through him. “I was just wondering what we were going to do tonight.”

“I thought we’d watch a documentary on endangered mountain gorillas,” she said, her face neutral, her eyebrows raised in challenge.

“That’s one idea, yes,” he said, and he closed the distance between them. “Or we can make out a little maybe.”

“I’m not sure this qualifies as looking after your heart,” Abby said as he took her into his arms.

“The consultant only said no strenuous exercise; he said nothing about some gentle fun.”

“He probably didn’t think you’d be doing this.”

Kane put his hands on her back, pressed her to him. He kissed her, his tongue finding hers and exploring it. She moaned, put her arms around his neck, drank him in.

“We can stop, if you want,” he whispered, and he ran his lips over her jaw down to her neck which she exposed to him, sighing as he nipped at her sensitive flesh .

“I never said I wanted that.”

Kane played with the top button on her blouse, teased it out of its slot. He moved to the next one, taking his time, giving her a chance to object, but she didn’t. He popped the last button, let the blouse fall open so he could see those beautiful breasts he’d first glimpsed months ago at the book reading. He stroked the swell of them above her bra, then bent to kiss them. Abby groaned, pressed herself closer to him. Kane slipped the blouse from her shoulders, let it flutter to the floor. He reached behind, unclasped her bra with practised fingers, peeled it away so the full glory of her breasts was slowly revealed to him. Her skin was pale, her nipples pink and hard. He rubbed them with his thumbs causing her to moan, then he sucked one into his mouth and she cried out.

“Harder,” she groaned, and her hand slipped between them, stroked the outline of his cock through his pants. Kane tried not to focus on what she was doing to him. He sucked her harder, massaged her soft flesh with his hands.

Abby grabbed his sweater, lifted it and Kane broke contact so she could pull it over his head. She ran her hands over his chest, fingers tracing his muscles, pinching his nipples making him groan.

“Shall we go to bed?” he said. “Just to get comfy, not for the...”

She cut him off with a kiss, then led him to his bedroom. She lay on the bed, pulled him on top of her. They lay like that, kissing, her breasts squashed against his chest, his cock rubbing against her groin through their jeans.

“God, Abby,” he said as he sat up and looked at her beneath him, her hair fanned out against his pillow, her nipples pointing at him. He kissed her again, then he put his hands on her jeans, fingers teasing the button from its slot, easing the zipper down.

“Marcus,” she said, and something in her voice made him stop and look at her.

“Hmmm?”

“I have scars. Remember I told you?”

He did remember. How could he forget? They’d been sitting on his sofa weeks ago, discussing her novel. He’d thought about her scars a lot since then, wondered what they were like, what she’d been through to get them.

“I remember,” he said. He smiled softly at her and kissed her. “I’ll be gentle.”

“It’s not that. They don’t hurt anymore; it’s just...”

He knew what was on her mind, that he would think they were ugly, that they’d put him off.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re both scarred.” He eased her jeans down and she raised her hips to help him. She wore cream panties with red roses and above the waistband her scars bloomed pink and purple. They bisected her like a series of off-centre crosses and when he pressed his lips to them the biggest one was ridged, like a mountain chain born from violence. He heard Abby’s breath hitch and he looked up to see a tear sliding down her face.

“Hey,” he said softly. “They’re a part of who you are.”

“I know. It’s just, no one’s ever seen them. No one’s ever touched these parts of me.”

Kane moved up the bed so he was lying by her side. “We don’t have to do this. It’s okay.” He nuzzled her cheek, kissed the traces of her tears from her skin.

“No, I want to. I want to.” She took his hand placed it on her stomach, guided his fingers over her scars. She left him there, brought her hand to his face, kissed him deeply.

Kane let his fingers glide over her stomach, stroking her gently. His fingertips nudged the lace of her panties, and he slipped beneath, finding short, damp hairs. Abby groaned and lifted her hips. Kane’s fingers moved lower, over her lips, his middle finger sliding between them.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered into her mouth.

“Yes.” She sucked on his bottom lip, pressing herself to him as he circled her sex with his fingers. She was sighing and moaning, but he couldn’t get at the heart of her, trapped as he was by her panties. He left the warmth of her mouth and sat astride her. Her eyes were almost black in the half light as she watched him stroke her body, and he could feel them on him as he bent to kiss her warm skin. He traced a line to her panties, hooked his fingers in them, eased them down, exposing the damp hairs and her pale lips.

“I want to taste you,” he said, looking up at her.

“I want that too.” She rested her head against the pillow, let her legs fall open.

Kane settled himself lower. He parted her thighs further, put his thumbs on her lips and spread her apart, revealing the plump pink heart of her, her clit poking out at him, swollen and ripe. He put his tongue on it, licked it and sucked it gently.

“Aah, God,” she cried, bucking towards him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, nosing into her. She was warm and spiced and he buried himself further, lapping up all her juices.

“I don’t think this will take long,” she gasped as he licked the length of her.

“We’ll see.” He took his time with her, using gentle pressure and uneven strokes of his tongue so she wouldn’t get into a rhythm for coming.

“Oh, God. Oh, God.”

She manoeuvred beneath him, tried to get his tongue to stay in one place. Kane put one hand on her stomach to hold her still. He slipped a finger inside her where she was hot and tight. She gripped him greedily, and he eased a second finger in, fucked her slowly, massaging the walls of her sex. Her moans were loud.

He felt her contract and grow wetter and knew she was close. He set up a steady rhythm with his fingers crooked inside her and his tongue licking her clit. Her orgasm was powerful, heated. He held his tongue to her clit as it pulsed against it, then licked the root gently, bringing another spasm to her. He could hear her breathing, loud and heavy.

“Wow!” she said at last.

Kane looked up to see her looking back at him, sweat on her brow, eyes bright, face flushed, nipples dusky pink and erect. His cock throbbed at the sight.

He grinned.

Abby broke into a smile. “What are you looking so smug about?”

“Nothing.” Kane moved up the bed so he could lay next to her. “How was it?” he said.

“Not bad.” She caressed his face, kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly, and he knew she meant for more than making her come.

Kane kissed her lips and was expecting her to respond but she surprised him by pushing him onto his back and straddling him. She was a magnificent sight perched naked above him and Kane’s cock, which had been at half-mast while he was ministering to Abby, twitched and sprang fully into life. She noticed, and put her hand around it, lifted it from his belly and gave it long strokes.

“That feels good,” Kane moaned.

“Hmmm. Let me see if I can make you feel more than good.” She leant over him, her breasts brushing against his chest, and kissed him, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth as though she wanted to get inside him, devour him from within. His cock was squashed between them, tantalisingly close to her sex. If she moved just a couple of inches...

As if she could read his thoughts she started to rock above him, rubbing herself along his length like they’d done the day before only this time there were no clothes between them, just her hot, slippery flesh against his hardness.

“Jesus,” he said. “God.” He’d invoke all the deities he didn’t believe in to keep this going. The temptation to slip inside her was huge though. It would only take a minor adjustment.

He was trying to figure out if that was what she wanted after all when she surprised him by sitting up and then shuffling back so she was astride his calves. She looked at him with a gleam in her eye.

“It’s my turn to taste you,” she said, and she bent her head and sucked his cock into her mouth, her lips sliding halfway down his length, her hand gripping him at the root. Kane jumped because he hadn’t expected her to do it, and the feel of her mouth around him was exquisitely hot and wet, her tongue pressing against the ridge on the underside the way he liked to do with his fingers back when he had the desire to touch himself.

“That’s good. That’s good,” he said, and then she licked beneath the head with the tip of her tongue and Kane cried out, gripping the sheets. She’d done that yesterday with her hand but her tongue was so much more pleasurable it was almost too much. Almost. Her other hand caressed his balls, and she ran her finger along his perineum towards his hole, back and forth, back and forth, setting him on fire. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He stroked her hair, watched as she bobbed up and down on him. She was moaning softly, enjoying this as much as he was.

Kane thrust towards her as his orgasm built, and she increased her speed, sucked hard on his head.

“Abby, I...” was all he could manage as a warning. She nodded, and he came hard in her mouth, pulse after pulse of it because she kept sucking, draining him until he flopped back onto his pillow, spent and exhausted. She slipped him out of her mouth, sat back to survey him.

“How was that?” she said, one eyebrow raised.

“Not bad,” Kane said, and he pulled her down on top of him and kissed her before she could respond, his hands on the small of her back, tracing the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheeks.

She sighed happily when they parted, rolled onto her side, laid her head on his chest, her fingers playing with the sparse hairs.

“That was amazing,” she said. “All of it.”

“God, yeah,” replied Kane, his heart still thumping.

She put her hand over it. “Hope we’re not doing this beautiful heart any harm.”

“Strengthening it, surely,” Kane said, willing himself to believe it was true because he never wanted to stop what they were doing. He stroked her back, finding more scars, not ridged like the big one, but raised nevertheless. He traced their outlines.

“Metal,” Abby said. “And glass. It got everywhere.”

“It must have been so painful. I can’t imagine.”

“Not as painful as everything else.”

“No.” He kissed her head.

“The ugly one, the one that’s rough... I got an infection while I was in the hospital. It caused collagen to build up along the wound, and that’s how it heals. It will go down eventually. One day.”

“Was that from having Clarke?” he said, thinking about how frightening it must have been to wake up with your body so terribly damaged and a baby you couldn’t remember giving birth to lying by your side.

“No, her mark is small. It’s from the car. It crumpled.”

Kane had seen the wreckage of course, when he’d searched for information on her. He was amazed she’d even survived.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“It was an accident. They happen. It was our turn that day, that’s all. We were unlucky.”

Kane held her tighter. He couldn’t imagine he’d be that philosophical if it had happened to him, but he supposed she’d had nearly two years to think about it, start coming to terms with it.

“What about your scars?” Abby said. “The ones on your face. How did you get those?”

“Ah, well. That’s a sorry and tragic tale of its own,” Kane said, keeping his voice light so she wouldn’t take him too seriously. He felt her smile into his chest.

“Was it the coffee shop serial killer?”

“Would I be here to tell the tale if it were? She was scary.” He smiled into her hair.

Abby laughed. “I might make her the subject of my next novel.”

“You terrify me,” Kane said. “No, it was a dark and stormy night. I was fifteen, incredibly handsome already.”

Abby snorted.

“And alone in the house,” Kane continued, ignoring her derision. “I was in the cinema room watching Alien projected onto the big screen.”

“You had a cinema room?” she said, her voice incredulous.

“That’s not the focus of the story. I heard a noise, like someone was creeping through the house. I muted the screen, got up and put my ear to the door. There was definitely movement. Someone, or something, was in the house.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Yes. I was very brave, of course, and decided to investigate. I opened the door slowly, crept outside. There was no one around, but the sound was louder, and coming from downstairs.”

Abby gripped his chest, her fingers curled into the few hairs he had. Kane smiled. She was going to kill him in a minute.

“What happened?”

“I made my way slowly down the stairs. I could still hear the creature or whatever it was moving, knocking against furniture. There was a CRASH,” he said, emphasising the last word, and Abby tightened her grip further.

“Fuck!”

“I thought, well it’s now or never. If I’m going to die, let me go out being brave and strong. I opened the dining room door, and I could hear it breathing, scratching against something.”

“What was it?” she whispered.

“I couldn’t tell. The lights were off, and it was pitch black. I stumbled forward, and something brushed against my leg, as though to grab it. I fell forward, my hands out in front of me, but nothing could save me. I went headlong through the plate glass of the kitchen door, landed on the patio outside.”

“Christ! Where was the someone or something?”

“It was looking at me through what was now a wide opening in the wall. It was the cat. I tripped over the damned cat.” He grinned broadly, waiting for her response.

She sat up, looked at him. “A cat? After all that it was a cat?”

“Yes. I hated that damned thing.” Kane laughed, his shoulders heaving at the look on Abby’s face, which was a cross between annoyed as hell that he’d worked her up, and amusement.

“That must have hurt, though,” she said, tracing the one on his lower lip.

“A bit. I mean I guess I was lucky in some ways, but I’m afraid the tale of how I got them is not as interesting and tragic as I like people to believe. I’ve never told anyone, except family of course. I prefer the air of mystery.”

“You had me really going there about the intruder. I thought you were going to say you were slashed or something.” She play-thumped him on his arm. “You’re a bastard.”

Kane laughed. “I know. I am.” He put his hand on hers, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Hey, I just thought of something. Remember when you offered me a blow job on your first day of work?” He grinned when he heard Abby’s sharp intake of breath.

“I did NOT offer you a blow job!”

“Prepare to be blown, you said. I’ve been waiting all this time and now finally you’ve kept your promise.”

“You absolute bastard.” She tried to punch him again, but Kane still had hold of her arm and held it tightly.

Kane tutted. “That word again.” He rolled her over and straddled her, holding her arms above her head so she couldn’t move. “It was worth the wait.” He bent and kissed her, making his way back down her body again, until she was arching beneath him.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby has an emotional conversation, and Kane sees the consultant. Will he get the all clear?

The day of Marcus’s appointment with the hospital consultant to review his progress Abby went to her apartment first thing to check her mail and pick up a few clothes for Clarke. There was a letter from Russell her lawyer and she took it upstairs and made herself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the kitchen table to read it. A date had finally been set for the hearing, the week after the festival. Abby was pleased that they were finally going to get a resolution one way or another, but the thought of having to relive that night over and over again filled her with worry and sadness.

She hated herself for what she was thinking, but the last week with Marcus had been so full of joy and happiness she’d been able to put everything that had happened to the back of her mind. This was a timely reminder that she had other responsibilities, and that she still loved Jake and had to do right by him. She looked at the picture of him on the wall. They’d been so happy, and it had all been so cruelly taken away.

She picked up the phone, looked at it. She should call Sandra, see if she’d had a letter or an email too. She felt nervous every time she called her now, worried that she would pick up on the changes in Abby. She should tell her, but whenever she thought about doing it, her throat tightened and her stomach churned. It felt like the end, that if Sandra knew, then it was all real, and she was leaving Jake behind. It was the same reason why she didn’t want to sleep with Marcus yet, not fully. The final step was the hardest to take.

She dialled the number and put a smile on her face so she would seem bright to Sandra.

“Abby, how lovely to hear from you,” Sandra said when Abby said hello.

“How are you, Sandra?”

“I’m fine, love. How’s my granddaughter?”

“Oh, she’s great. She’s got lots more words now, and she’s started stringing a few together. Sometimes I feel like we’re actually having a conversation.”

“Is she there now?”

“Ah, erm, no. She’s with a friend.” Abby had left her with Marcus while she came to the apartment. She had a number of errands to run and it seemed pointless dragging Clarke with her when she was happy with him.

“Okay.” Sandra fell silent, and Abby hurried to fill the void.

“Have you had a message from Russell about the court date? I got a letter about it, and I wondered if you had.”

“Yes, I got an email the other day. I tried to call a couple of times but there was no answer.”

“I’ve been out a lot, working.” Abby hadn’t told Sandra she was staying with Marcus, because no matter how she’d structured that conversation in her head it hadn’t sounded good, so she’d avoided it. They hadn’t been scheduled to call until next week anyway, but of course Abby hadn’t known about the letter.

“Late at night?”

Abby didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t lie anymore, and she didn’t want to tell the truth either.

“No. I. I’ve been with a friend.”

“The friend who’s looking after Clarke now?”

God, this was a nightmare. “Yes.”

“Marcus, right? That’s his name?”

Abby started crying and there was no stopping it, no hiding it because her sobs were loud. Sandra knew; had probably known for ages. She’d always been astute. Abby and Jake had got away with nothing when they were young. She’d known all just by looking at them when they’d come in from a secret tryst in the woods or come down from his bedroom thinking they looked innocent when their guilt was written all over their hormonal teenaged faces.

“Abby.”

“I’m sorry,” Abby sobbed. “I’ve betrayed him. I’ve betrayed Jake.”

Sandra sniffed and she had tears in her voice when she spoke. “Don’t think like that.”

“I should have told you, but I couldn’t.”

“How long have you and Marcus...?” she trailed off.

“A week,” sniffed Abby.

“A week?” Sandra sighed. “Sweetheart, come on. Don’t cry. It all feels very new, doesn’t it? A week is no time at all.”

“We’ve been friends longer than that. It’s just, this last week... But we haven’t, you know...”

“But you want to?” Sandra said softly.

Abby cried again. It was impossible to say these things to Sandra. She didn’t want to hurt her. How can you tell the mother of your husband that you’re in love with another man? It was too hard, but here they were.

Sandra took a deep breath. “Abby, this is hard for me to say, I’m not going to lie, and therefore you know that I mean it, because in truth there’s nothing I want more than for you to be with Jake, to be visiting me, bringing Clarke, maybe more grandchildren, but that is never going to happen. It can’t happen. And I know my son. I know him because I raised him, and Jake wouldn’t want you to be unhappy and alone for the rest of your life. He would want Clarke to have a father if one came along. I’ve known for a while that you care for this Marcus guy. I can hear it in your voice when you talk about him, or rather when you try not to talk about him.” She gave a small laugh.

Abby’s tears were flowing down her face and she let them. She hadn’t expected this from Sandra, not in all the conversations she’d had with Jake’s mom in her mind. They’d all ended in condemnation, but she realised now as she listened to her talk, that the condemnation was her own. It was her guilt talking, her shame. Sandra had always been an open-hearted woman. It had suited Abby to make her into the bad guy because then she could avoid having to tell her and have an excuse not to follow through with the things she most wanted to do. She hugged the phone to her ear.

“Clarke loves Marcus,” she said, “and that makes me happy and so sad at the same time.”

“I’m glad she does, Abby. Oh, that makes me happy it really does.”

“Does it really?”

“Of course it does. I want the best for her, and for you. Is he a good man, this Marcus Kane?”

“I believe he is,” said Abby between sobs. “He has a good heart, and he’s loyal and true.”

“Then I think you should follow your heart. I won’t stand in your way. You have my blessing.”

Abby couldn’t speak for crying, and Sandra was sniffling on the other end of the phone.

“Jake’s gone, Abby. But you’re still here. You and Clarke. You have to live.”

Abby put the phone on speaker so she could lay it on the table. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and cried sobs that were so big they made no sound, but the force of them stretched her throat, made it ache. There was silence on the other end of the phone while Sandra let her get it all out.

“I love you,” Abby said when she could finally speak.

“I love you too. I love you so much and always will. You’ll always be that wee girl with the wild hair and the big smile who captured all our hearts, but you’re a beautiful woman now, and you deserve to be happy.”

“You’re so kind. Thank you.”

“Thank you. Thank you for giving my son so much love and happiness while he was here, and for Clarke.”

“This sounds like goodbye!” said Abby, alarmed at Sandra’s tone. “I’m not going anywhere. Me and Clarke will always be here for you.”

“I know that, love. It’s not goodbye, but it’s moving forward. I want you to be able to tell me everything you’re doing, talk about Marcus as much as you want, and Jake. Anything. So, we’ll move into this stage of our lives from now on, okay? A new chapter.”

“Okay.” Abby wiped her face, took a deep breath.

“Give my granddaughter a big kiss from me. And tell Marcus if he doesn’t look after you, I’ll be on the plane from Germany and he won’t know what’s hit him.”

Abby laughed. “I think his mother has told him the same thing, so he’ll definitely be good.”

“Okay. I’m going to go. Keep in touch. Take care, love.”

“You too. Bye, Sandra.”

Abby put the phone back on the hook and sat with her head in her hands. She felt exhausted after that conversation. All of those tears had clearly been waiting inside her for a long time. She should have talked sooner, let it out, but she hadn’t wanted to upset Sandra. The woman was amazing; Abby felt guilty for not trusting her enough to tell her the truth.

She got up, went into the living room, looked again at the pictures of Jake.

“I’ve met someone,” she said to the one of him smiling, his arm tight around her. “I’m so sorry.” A tear rolled down her cheek again, but she wiped it away. “His name is Marcus Kane. He’s a good man and he loves our daughter, and he loves me. I. I think you would like him. I miss you. I’ll always miss you, but it’s time. I know you understand.”

She looked at him again, and then she picked up the things she needed for Clarke and left.

\---

Kane looked at his watch as he fastened Clarke into her snowsuit. Abby was late coming back from her apartment, and if they didn’t leave soon they’d miss the bus to Saint Croy. He wasn’t allowed to drive yet, and she wouldn’t come with him that way even if he was, so the bus was their only means of getting to the hospital in time for his appointment. He was on edge enough as it was, wondering what the consultant would say. Despite what he’d said to Abby about their activities strengthening his heart, he was worried deep down that they’d gone too far, despite not having had full sex. She excited him so much his heart rarely got a rest from beating hard, let alone other parts of him. Would the consultant know? Should he tell him?

The door opened and he looked up, about to tell her off for being late, when he saw her face and stopped, his mouth open. Her skin was red and blotchy, her cheeks puffy, her eyes red-rimmed and sore. She’d been crying. What on earth had happened?

“Are you okay?” he said, moving towards her, Clarke toddling beside him, her hand grasped in his.

Abby nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You’ve been crying. What’s happened?” He put his free arm around her, brought her to him. She buried her face in his neck, and he felt it grow damp with her tears. Fuck! Clarke put her arm around Abby’s leg and the three of them stood in a tight triangle. Abby didn’t speak, and Kane didn’t press her.

“Mama, mama!” said Clarke, and Abby pulled away, bent and picked up her daughter.

“Hey, baby.”

“Abby, you’re scaring me,” said Kane, desperate to know what had upset her.

“I’m fine. Honestly. There was a letter from my lawyer when I got to the apartment. They’ve set a court date at last.”

Aah, so that was it. “Okay. That’s good, though, isn’t it? You need to get this resolved.”

“Yes. It’s not that.” She fastened Clarke into her stroller. “I called Jake’s mom to tell her and she’d been trying to call me. She didn’t know I was here. I hadn’t told her.” She looked up at him through her wet eyelashes, a look which always made Kane’s heart go out to her.

“I see.” She meant she hadn’t told her about him, or them. Kane could understand how hard such a conversation would be.

“I told her about us. I had to. It was an emotional conversation.”

“I bet it was.” Kane stroked her cheek. “How was she?”

“She was wonderful.” She picked up her bag, rummaged through it. “I’m fine. It was good, really. It had to be done.” She nodded at him, which Kane knew was her signal that she wasn’t going to talk about it anymore.

“I’m glad you talked to her.” He kissed her cheek.

“Yes. Have we got everything we need?” She slung Clarke’s diaper bag over the handle of the stroller.

“I think so.”

“Okay.” They walked to the elevator and waited for it to arrive.

“She said to tell you she’ll kill you if you’re not good to me, so you’d better behave.” Abby smiled when she looked up at him, and Kane smiled back.

“She’ll have to join the line, behind my mom and Raven.”

“And Clarke.”

“Definitely Clarke. She’s the scariest one of you all!”

They both looked down at Clarke who was talking to herself and sucking on a breadstick.

“She’ll smother you with hummus,” said Abby.

“I don’t want to think where she’ll put those carrot sticks.”

They were still laughing when they stepped out of the elevator and into the cold winter air.

\---

In the consultant’s waiting room, and Kane was anxious but trying not to show it. He had Clarke on his knee and was stroking her hair to keep himself calm.

“Are you feeling confident?” said Abby, who seemed happier than she was earlier.

“That he’ll give me the all clear? I’m hopeful.”

“Hope is everything,” she said, smiling.

“It is.” He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

“What else are you hopeful for?” she said, her eyebrow cocked, her smile crooked and teasing.

“A glass of wine and some cheese.” Kane batted back.

Abby ignored him, leaned closer. “We need to think about contraception, for when we do eventually, you know,” she whispered, surprising Kane with her comment. “I haven’t had sex since before Clarke was born. I didn’t think I ever would again, so I never went back on the pill after I had her.”

“I’m not prepared either”, said Kane. “I’d sworn off sex.”

Abby looked surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. I didn’t want any complications at all.”

Abby pulled an amused face. “I guess that didn’t turn out well.”

“It turned out well enough.” Kane smiled. “What do you want to do?”

“Go back on the pill, I guess. I’ll make an appointment with my OBGYN.”

“Okay. I’ll get something too, just so we’re prepared, you know, in case...”

“Good idea.”

An obvious question came into Kane’s mind, but he didn’t know if this was the right time to ask it. He saw Abby swallow hard, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing, if she was expecting him to ask. He closed his eyes briefly, then took a slow breath.

“Do you think you’ll want another child one day?”

Her eyes crinkled into something that looked like the beginnings of a sad smile, and her mouth opened as she took a breath. Kane’s heartrate picked up.

“You want one, don’t you?” she said.

“There’s Clarke,” Kane said.

“I know, but you’d want one of your own someday?”

“Ideally, but it’s not a deal breaker. I’m happy with you and Clarke.”

Abby smiled, reached up and stroked his face, kissed him softly on the lips. “I’m not against it,” she said. “Clarke’s birth and the aftermath was traumatic, so it’s not a simple decision for me.”

“I understand that.” He put his hand on hers where it rested against his face.

“I’m open to the idea. Eventually.”

“That’s enough for me,” said Kane. “In the meantime...”

“No mini Marcus.”

“Or Abby.”

“No.” He kissed her hand then let it drop.

The door opened and a nurse came through. “Mr Kane? The consultant is ready for you.”

“Do you want me to come in?” said Abby, squeezing his hand.

“No, I’ll be fine.” Kane kissed Clarke and handed her to Abby. “Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it.”

Kane had already been subjected to a battery of tests when he’d arrived, and the consultant, Dr Graff, had x-rays and charts up on his computer. He spent ages looking at them while Kane sat impatiently, his pulse racing. Did Graff know what he was putting him through with this delay? Was it another test? He tapped his fingers on the side of the chair and at last Graff looked up.

“How have you been, Mr Kane?”

“Fine.”

Graff nodded. “Any problems to report?”

“No. All has been well.”

“And you’ve been resting as I told you to do?”

“Yes,” Kane said after a slight hesitation. He had been resting, ninety percent of the time. And the other ten percent he’d mostly been horizontal.

“Your blood pressure and heart rate are still a little high.”

“Is that bad?”

Dr Graff looked at him penetratingly. “You’ve not been doing any strenuous exercise?”

“Erm.” He knew he should tell the consultant, because what if it did matter? What if he’d damaged himself? He wanted to live as long as possible with Abby, so he needed to know and make changes if necessary. “I, erm. My girlfriend and I...”

“You’ve had sex,” Graff said with a frown.

“No, well, sort of. Not actual sex, but other kinds.” God, why was it so hard to tell the man about this? He was a doctor; this could hardly be the worst thing he’d ever heard. “Oral sex, mostly, and, erm, manual stimulation,” he said quietly.

“I see.”

“Has that affected me?”

Graff sat back and regarded him coolly. “I shouldn’t think so,” he said, and in that moment Kane wanted to kill him. It had been embarrassing admitting what he just had, and it wasn’t even a problem. The man must have known that. Kane narrowed his eyes as he looked at the doctor. Psychopath.

Graff seemed unmoved by Kane’s hostility. “From our conversations in the hospital you were leading a rather sedentary, hedonistic life before this happened.”

Kane bristled at his words. He’d hardly call a few glasses of wine and some possibly rich food a hedonistic life!

“I...”

“So it is unsurprising that your blood pressure is still high. My advice is to continue eating healthily, drink no more than one glass of wine a day, and get plenty of exercise. You can go outside now. In fact, I recommend a good walk every day. One that gets your heart rate up and leaves you short of breath.”

“That’s a good thing?”

“Yes.” The consultant rose from his chair. “You will report to your own doctor once a month, and I’ll see you again in six months for a check-up.”

“Thank you.” Kane shook his hand. “Erm, am I allowed to, you know, be intimate with my girlfriend?”

“You can have sex, yes. Orgasms may reduce the risk of heart attacks and combat stress, so I recommend you take your chances when you can.”

Kane waited for him to smile to show he was joking but he just stared at Kane as though he was surprised he was still standing in front of him.

“Right. Okay. Thanks again.”

He returned to the waiting room and Abby, who looked up at him anxiously.

“Everything okay? You look a little red.”

“Everything is fine. He doesn’t want to see me for another six months.”

“Oh, that’s great. That’s wonderful.” She stood up, Clarke in her arms, and kissed him.

“I’m only allowed one glass of wine a day,” he said sadly.

“Oh, dear. How will you cope?”

“I’ll have to find other distractions.” He smirked at her, and she grinned.

“So that’s on the table now is it?”

“On the table, the floor, the chair. Anywhere we want. Doctor recommended.”

“I see. Well, you’ll have to wait a few more days until I’m able to, but maybe you’ll get lucky in Minneapolis.”

“Something to look forward to.” He put his arm around her, kissed her head. “Let’s go home.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Marcus go to Minneapolis and spend their first night together.

A deep blue sky and a fresh coating of snow greeted them when they arrived in Minneapolis. The bus journey was arduous, and Clarke was grizzly, and Kane wondered how he could help Abby to one day feel comfortable in a car. He knew she’d taken one to see him in the hospital, and he also knew it had been traumatic for her and he didn’t want to put her through that stress. Still, it limited the places they could go, especially with a child. He decided he would investigate options first, before talking to her about it. There wasn’t a great rush; it was more that he had visions of taking trips with Abby and Clarke, showing Clarke the history and beautiful sights of the country. It would be hard to do by bus.

Abby hadn’t returned to her apartment after they’d been to the consultant. Kane no longer needed looking after, but they hadn’t discussed the situation. He hadn’t asked her to leave and she hadn’t shown any signs she wanted to. They’d simply returned to his condo and carried on as before, albeit Kane had kept his side of the bargain and started preparing his share of the meals. Maybe she’d thought it would be easier seeing as they were going away a few days later, and she’d want to leave once they were back from this trip. Kane hoped not. He was already used to them being there, couldn’t imagine his life without them.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to the twin cities,” said Abby as they stored their luggage at the hotel in readiness for checking in later.

“How long?”

“I wasn’t even pregnant with Clarke, so three or four years maybe.”

“It doesn’t seem to change much.” Kane had felt surprisingly emotional seeing the towers of the city again. Now he was happy it held less of a threat, and he felt nostalgic for the old days, the old, old, days long before Rebecca and any of the problems with the business.

“Have you told your mother we’re here?” Abby tucked a blanket around Clarke in the stroller.

“No. I didn’t know if I wanted to see her or any of that. I just want this to be the three of us.”

“I understand that, but if you change your mind, then I’m happy to visit her, or your office. It’s up to you.” She dropped a kiss on his cheek.

Kane pondered her words while Abby finished getting Clarke ready. He found he wanted to show Abby the business, show it off to her if he was being honest, so she could see what he’d helped to build, what he controlled. Their hotel was only two blocks from the head office of Kane & Co, which wasn’t by design; it was just the most family-friendly hotel Kane could find. It was tempting to show her all his old haunts, his favourite places, but this was about their present, not his past.

“We’ll see,” he said. “It’s a half hour walk to the sculpture garden. Would you prefer to catch the bus?”

“No, let’s walk. We can see the city and get some exercise.”

At the Sculpture Park they wandered the gardens, spending a long time looking at the famous Spoonbridge and Cherry. It was the perfect day for viewing it, the blue skies contrasting with the white of the bridge and the bright red of the cherry. Kane took pictures of it, and of Clarke and Abby in front of it. A passer-by asked if he wanted to be in the photos and he posed with his arm around Abby, who was holding tightly to Clarke. They examined the photo afterwards.

“Our first picture together,” said Kane, and Abby squeezed his hand, her eyes bright.

“I love it.”

After they’d toured the sculptures they walked slowly back to their hotel, browsing in shops along the way. Kane pushed Clarke’s stroller and he couldn’t think of a time he’d been happier. They ended up on Hennepin Avenue, and it wasn’t long before the inevitable happened and the flagship Kane & Co bookstore loomed ahead of them.

Abby looked at Kane as they reached the doors. “Your store,” she said.

“Yes.” Kane looked at it, at the modern glass frontage, the huge square footage the store took up on the block. His father had been so proud when they’d acquired that. Kane had been five or six, maybe. He thought he could remember the opening, but it was probably just the endless tales and photographs he’d heard and seen that had merged with a few shapeless memories.

“What do you want to do?” said Abby.

Kane took a deep breath. “We’ll go in,” he said.

He gripped tightly to the handle of the stroller as the doors opened and he went inside. The scent of polished wood hit him and felt like home. He looked around, his eyes alighting on the displays, examining them critically. Everything seemed in order.

“Let’s just browse,” he said to Abby, and they wandered the aisles, ending up in the children’s section. Clarke begged to be let out of the stroller and Kane sat her on a toy train that doubled up as a reading desk. There were wooden toys on the desk and she started playing with them. Kane looked around. Everything seemed dark, mainly from the mahogany of the wooden bookshelves.

“Is it too old-fashioned do you think?”

“No, I love your store. I like that it’s traditional. Too many things today are throwaway. You have good long-lasting toys and all the latest books. Is business really bad?”

“It’s not really bad, but there’s been a steady decline, and everything that happened last year didn’t help. That lecture we went to at the Duluth festival opened my eyes. I feel like we have to embrace the digital age somehow if we’re to have a long-term future.”

“There must be a way to keep the traditional feel and move forwards. I...” Abby didn’t get to finish her sentence because there was a loud yell and suddenly Raven was upon them.

“You’re here!” she said, coming up to Abby and throwing her arms around her. “This feels so weird seeing you in this setting.”

“I see word got around fast,” said Kane.

“You were clocked the minute you walked in the door. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

“I didn’t know I’d have time to visit the store.”

“Okay. Well, what are you doing in Minneapolis?”

“I have a meeting with a publisher to talk about my novel,” said Abby.

“Oh my God that’s great! You guys look so cute together.” Raven squeezed Abby’s hand.

“Is anybody else in?” said Kane.

“No, your mom’s at home with one of her migraines.” Raven rolled her eyes at Kane. They both knew what that meant. She’d had a few too many cocktails last night. “Martin’s over at HQ. I’m just here to collect some paperwork. It’s so good to see you.”

“We can’t stay,” said Kane. “We have to check in at the hotel and get Clarke’s dinner.”

“Promise you’ll come by the HQ before you leave. Everyone misses you, and I’m sure Abby would love to see the building. It’s an old warehouse, Abby. All kinds of history.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Kane. “Don’t tell my mother I was here.”

Raven shook her head. “You’ve no chance of keeping it a secret. It’s all over the store. She probably already knows.”

Kane grimaced. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his mother; he just wanted to keep Abby and Clarke to himself a bit longer, but then he shouldn’t have entered the store if that was the case. The temptation to see the place and show it to Abby had got the better of him.

“If we get a chance we’ll come and see you,” said Abby, an answer which covered all their bases.

“You can always leave old misery guts and come by yourself,” said Raven as she kissed Abby’s cheek.

“The way you speak to me! Have you forgotten who’s the boss in this relationship?” said Kane.

“Nope!” Raven reached up and kissed his cheek as well. “Come and see us or I’ll send Vera up to Arkadia Falls.”

“Bye, Raven,” said Kane, and he picked Clarke up and carried her out of the store, closely followed by Abby and the empty stroller.

“That wasn’t so bad,” said Abby as they headed down the avenue.

“No, but now my mother knows I’m here, so I fear a summons is inevitable.”

\---

Abby put Clarke to bed in the cot provided by the hotel. She sat on the single bed next to the cot and watched her daughter drift into sleep. Marcus was in a chair on the other side of the room, watching the news. The room they were in was large and spacious, with a huge double bed in addition to the single and the cot. There was a partition that slid across to shield Clarke from the other side of the room so she wouldn’t be disturbed by the TV or any noise Abby and Marcus made. Abby kissed Clarke’s sleeping face then pulled the partition across, leaving a gap so she could hear her if she woke.

She turned to look at Marcus and she could see he was dozing. It had been a long day with a lot of walking and then the stress of going to his bookstore. She’d have to wake him in a minute because they were going out tonight, well downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant. It was the first time they’d been anywhere together as a couple without Clarke. Abby was nervous about leaving her daughter with the babysitter, but excited to spend some time alone with Marcus, to go on a proper date. She’d brought the red dress with her and couldn’t wait to put it on.

They hadn’t spent the whole night with each other yet either. She’d lain longer and longer in his bed with him but always gone back to her room and Clarke. Tonight they would probably make love properly for the first time. They’d been close to it a couple of times, but even after Abby’s talk with Sandra and Marcus’s all clear from the consultant they’d had the inconvenience of her period which had prevented them from taking that last step. There were no hindrances now, though, except for Clarke, and she was effectively in another room. She gave Marcus five minutes more rest before gently shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

“We have to get ready,” she said. “The reservation is at eight.”

He stretched and yawned. “Okay. Is Clarke asleep?”

“Yes, she went down quickly. I think we tired her out.”

“Good. Do you want to get ready first or should I?”

“You get ready, and then you might as well go downstairs and get a drink. I can make an entrance then, like it’s a proper date.”

“It is a proper date.” He stood up, took her into his arms and kissed her. “But I like the sound of that. Maybe you’d better not see me either, then I can blow you away.”

Abby laughed. “I’ll keep my eyes closed when you come out then.”

“Okay. I’ll give you warning.”

Abby found a music channel and put that on while she waited for Marcus to get ready. She checked on Clarke then sat back in the chair. The door to the bathroom opened.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

She put her hand over her eyes, a huge smile on her face. She heard him cross the room towards her, the warm wood scent of his cologne filling her nostrils as he leant in close. His lips touched hers, and she sighed into his kiss. She moved to put her hand on the back of his neck but he broke the kiss and pulled away.

“No touching,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.” She heard him open the partition and say goodnight to Clarke then he closed the door and she opened her eyes. Her heart was racing. They’d been effectively living with each other for two weeks, but this still felt new and exciting.

She showered and dressed and curled her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror. The red dress was low cut but classy. It revealed enough cleavage to hint at the rest but still leave a lot to the imagination. Marcus loved her breasts. This dress would drive him crazy tonight. Abby smiled at the thought. The skirt of the dress flared out, showing her smooth muscled calves and slim ankles. It really was perfect for her. Had she known when she’d bought it, deep down, that she’d one day wear it for Marcus? Maybe it had been at the back of her mind, that hope. She was certainly thinking about him a lot at that time.

She sat at her dressing table and applied careful subtle make up. Her eyelashes were long and she emphasised them with dark mascara. Jake’s ring lay on its chain on the table. She picked it up, fingered the smooth surface, the gold worn after ten years of marriage. She wasn’t sure why she’d worn it here. She took it off at night when she was with Marcus but hadn’t got used to the idea of not wearing it at all. It was time though. It was the same with her wedding band, which she’d never taken off. She turned it, eased it off her finger. She’d lost weight since she was first married, and it barely left a mark. She added it to the necklace then kissed both the rings. “I’ll always love you,” she said, and she put them in her make up bag. She’d save them for Clarke when she was older. She had a small pearl necklace that used to be her mother’s and she put that on instead together with pearl earrings.

There was a knock at the door and she went over to let the babysitter in, giving the woman a good look up and down. The service was used exclusively by the hotel and came with excellent recommendations. It was still hard to leave Clarke in the care of a stranger though.

“I’ll only be in the hotel restaurant,” she said to the woman. “Clarke will probably sleep through, but if you need me you have my number.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs Kane,” she said, obviously assuming Abby was Marcus’s wife as the reservation was in his name. “Here’s my number. You can text me whenever you want this evening. We prefer to text rather than call so Clarke isn’t disturbed.”

“Okay. Thank you. I haven’t left her like this before,” she said, looking down at Clarke.

“I understand. Try to have a good time.” She smiled at Abby. “You look lovely by the way.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Abby was pleased and surprised. She gathered up her bag and left the room, her heart thumping as she made her way to the ground floor. The dress gave her confidence, and she was smiling as she entered the bar, feeling good.

She spotted Marcus’s dark hair straight away. He was sitting at the bar, nursing what looked like a scotch. Her pulse raced faster. He turned as she approached, and she saw him draw a sharp breath. He stood, looked her up and down.

“Wow!” he said in a low, raspy voice. “You are stunning.”

She didn’t reply immediately because she was too busy drinking him in. He was wearing a black suit, the jacket unbuttoned to reveal a matching waistcoat. His white shirt was open at the collar and he looked so handsome Abby could hardly breathe. “Thank you,” she said, trying to regain her cool. “You look incredible. I love the suit.”

Marcus put his hand on her waist, brought her in and kissed her cheek. Abby put her hand on his chest, played with the pocket square that poked perfectly out of his jacket.

“I can’t believe how good you look in that dress,” he whispered, his eyes dropping to her breasts. “Gorgeous.”

It was tempting to say let’s forget the dinner and go back to the room. She was pretty sure if she said that Marcus wouldn’t hesitate, but this was just the start of their night, and it wouldn’t hurt to build up the anticipation.

“What would you like to drink?” said Marcus.

“Red wine please.”

Abby settled on a bar stool next to Marcus. She crossed her legs, let her foot brush against his calf.

“You’re killing me,” Marcus said as he watched her take a sip of her wine. “I hope our table isn’t ready yet because I can’t get up without offending public decency.”

“It’s the same for me, although you can’t see it obviously.”

“No but now I’m imagining it, and it’s not helping.” Marcus pulled a face. He took a sip of his scotch. “Tell me something to take my mind off how much I want you right now.”

Abby thought but her mind was a blank. “I only have stories about some of the truly awful things Clarke has done.”

“Such as?”

“It will put you off your dinner.”

“Hmmm. Probably.” Marcus laughed. “She’s a machine. In one end out the other.”

“I know! When she was really tiny that’s how I felt about her all the time. All I did was feed her and clean her, and in between was a lot of staring.”

“Her or you?”

“Both of us. I couldn’t stop looking at her. It was a mixture of being terrified she’d stop breathing and fascination in every little thing she did. Like if she coughed, it was the most amazing cough I’d ever heard, and when she sneezed, I thought it was the cutest sneeze I’d ever heard.”

“I feel like that with her.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. There’s so much to discover. I forgot to tell you this, but the first time I looked after her I was trying to teach her my name, and she got the first part, Mar Mar.”

“I remember you telling me that.”

“Yes, but I didn’t tell you the rest. I tried to get her to say Cus, and she thought I said kiss and she gave me a kiss on my cheek. I thought my heart would burst.”

He was smiling at the memory, and Abby thought it was her heart that would burst with her love for him. There weren’t many men who’d want to date a woman who had a young child, not that the thought had troubled Abby before, as she hadn’t intended dating anyone else for a long time if ever. But Marcus had wanted Clarke from the start, loved her as much as he did Abby. It was a wonderful feeling.

A waitress came over to tell them their table was ready.

“Are you ready?” Abby said to Marcus with a smirk.

“Better than I was,” he replied, and he put his arm around her waist to escort her to their table. He pulled the chair out for her to sit in before taking his own seat. The waitress handed them their menus and Marcus put his glasses on to peruse it.

“I’ve heard the food is excellent here,” he said.

“You’ve not been before?”

“No. We always went to the Hilton. The company has an account there, and my mother likes their shrimp cocktails. I don’t know what’s special about them. I’m not a huge fish fan myself.”

There was still a lot to learn about each other, and that was part of what this time away was about, a chance to talk, to discover.

“I have to admit I’ve never been anywhere this fancy before,” Abby said. “Pizzeria Lola is more my level.”

“That was a great meal. I’m still sorry I ran out on you that day. If it’s any consolation I was miserable for days afterwards.”

“That’s not a consolation! I don’t want you to be miserable. I never wanted that. I just wished you would tell me what the problem was, so I could help.”

“I know; I was an idiot.”

“I still have the picture of you in your Santa suit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. It made me laugh.”

“I enjoyed our texts.”

“Me too.” Abby looked down at her menu, smiling at the memory.

“What are you thinking?” Marcus said as he looked at his own menu.

“Pea soup to start, I think. And maybe the lamb chop.”

“I agree the starter, but I’m going to have the beef tenderloin.”

“We can try each other’s.”

“We can.”

The waitress took their orders and brought them a bottle of champagne which Marcus poured. He held out his glass and Abby clinked hers against it.

“To new beginnings,” he said.

“To new beginnings.” Abby took a sip, the bubbles warming her chest.

“I haven’t done anything without Clarke in two years except teach occasionally and go to the book reading,” Abby said, holding hands with Marcus across the table.

“I wondered if you were asking me out then until you said you weren’t going,” said Marcus.

“Is that why you went?”

“No, but I’ll admit I was hopeful. I was happy to see you.”

“That was a great night. The first time I’d felt like anything approaching myself in a long time.”

“If you hadn’t mentioned it,” said Marcus.

“We might still be staring at each other across the coffee shop.”

Marcus squeezed her hand. “I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

“I feel the same.”

They smiled at each other, and then their starters arrived, a tiny portion of pea soup in an English cup and saucer, that was so heavenly Abby didn’t speak while she ate it, preferring to concentrate on the fresh pea flavours that were flooding her mouth.

“That was awesome!” she said when she’d finished.

“Mmm. Beautiful.”

A band struck up in the corner of the dining room, the musicians dressed in three-piece suits like Marcus. They played swing music, and then a singer came out, his hair slicked back like James Dean, and started crooning old songs by Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin.

“I forgot there was entertainment tonight,” said Marcus.

“They’re fantastic.” Abby sat back and listened to the band. She felt both comfortable and out of her depth here, if that were possible. It was all so measured, sophisticated, understated. She could see how Marcus fit into a world like this. It wasn’t a world Abby was used to but being with him made her feel relaxed. She looked at her phone; there’d been no message from the babysitter, so she sent her a text asking if everything was okay, and a reply to the affirmative came quickly. Abby relaxed further.

After their main course Abby declined a dessert, thinking it would put her to sleep, and she wanted to be awake, she wanted to enjoy this time with Marcus, and go back to their room and make love. They sat in the lounge area, listening to the band, nursing the last of the champagne.

“Would you like to dance?” said Marcus when they’d been sitting a while. He stood up, held his hand out to Abby. She took it, and he led her to the small dance floor. They took their place amongst the other couples, Marcus’s hand in the small of her back, his other hand grasping hers. He was a good dancer, which didn’t surprise Abby. He’d probably been brought up going to events like this. Abby was more used to dancing around her handbag with her girlfriends, and Jake had never been interested. She rested her head against Marcus’s chest, and soon they were swaying more than dancing.

“I love you,” Marcus whispered. “So much.”

Abby looked up and he leaned in and captured her lips. The room faded away; there was only him and her. She put her arms around his neck, hands stroking the hair he’d gelled so carefully into place. “I love you too,” she said when they took a breath.

“Let’s go to bed,” said Marcus, and he didn’t wait for an answer, leading Abby from the dancefloor. She grabbed her bag as they passed the chair and they made it as far as the elevator before they were all over each other, his hands on her ass, squeezing her butt cheeks, rubbing her against his cock which was hard. She was lifted off the floor, pressed against the wall of the elevator. She held on tightly to him as he rocked against her.

They were dishevelled when they got to their room. The babysitter wasted no time updating Abby on the fact that Clarke had been no trouble and left them to it. Abby checked on her daughter, then pulled the partition closed. She turned to look at Marcus. He had removed his shoes and was shrugging his jacket off. His hair was coming loose from the gel, and he looked softer, more vulnerable.

“Is Clarke okay?” he said.

“She’s fine.” Abby put some music on so it played softly. She stood in front of Marcus, reached out to grasp one of the buttons on his waistcoat and undid it, and the next one, and the one after that. She pushed it off his shoulders, and he threw it onto the single bed. She did the same to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. She ran her hands over his chest, thumbs rubbing his nipples, and he groaned. She eased the shirt off his back, and then he was standing in front of her, bare chested in his suit pants.

“There’s an imbalance here,” he said, indicating Abby who was still fully dressed.

“All in good time,” she said.

She undid his belt, pulled his zipper down, dragged his pants and underwear to the floor and he stepped out of them. His cock bobbed up, so thick and long. Abby grabbed it, squeezed it hard, making Marcus gasp.

“This is such a beautiful part of you,” she said, and she sank to her knees, put her lips around it and sucked. Marcus cried out, put his hands on her head to steady himself.

“God, fuck,” he said as she took him as deep as she could. She brought him to a peak, then slipped him out of her mouth before he tumbled over the edge. He groaned, tried to press her to him, but she slipped out of his grasp.

She stood in front of him, eased the strap of her dress down one shoulder, then the other one. His breathing was heavy, his eyes fixed on her. There was a boldness in her, a confidence, and she pushed the top of her bodice down, exposing her breasts which had been held up only by the dress.

“Abby,” he said. “Let me touch you.”

She turned slowly instead of answering him, letting him get a good look at her, before she pushed the dress down all the way and stepped out of it, standing before him in her panties. He closed the gap between them, grabbed her and pressed her hard to him. His hands caressed her ass again, and then he hooked his fingers in her panties and eased them to the floor. Abby kicked them away.

Marcus picked her up, carried her to the bed and laid her down. “This is more like it,” he said, pressing kisses to her hot flesh, his lips running all over her, from her mouth to her nipples and down, down to where she was hot and wet and waiting for him. She arched her back as his tongue split her apart with one long lick.

“Aah!” she cried, and she rocked up against him. He teased her the way she had him, bringing her to the brink and then letting her fall back, before crawling up her body so he could kiss her, and she buried her tongue in his mouth, tasting her own juices mixed with the sweetness of the champagne he’d drunk.

They rolled so they were lying side by side, her leg over his, his cock pulsing between them, nudging at her entrance. His dark eyes locked onto hers, his lips parted in a groan.

“Yes,” Abby said, and he pushed inside, just a little way and back out again. Abby wanted more and the next time he entered her she pressed her hands on his ass, encouraged him to go deeper. The third time he broke through into the deepest part of her, and something inside her liquified.

“Oh, Abby,” Marcus groaned.

“Yes, yes,” she said, rocking against him, angling him to a certain point inside her, and warmth bloomed. She closed her eyes, concentrated on the pleasure his cock was giving her, listening to the sound of his breathing, his soft moans. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so she was straddling him. She sat straight, looked down into his eyes, and then she started rocking above him, her hands on his chest. She leaned forward so her breasts brushed against him, and he put his hands on them, massaged her nipples, making her pulse around him.

She was engrossed in their lovemaking, and it wasn’t until she looked down at where they were joined, watched him moving in and out of her that she realised something.

“We forgot the condom,” she whispered.

“Oh, God,” Marcus said.

“We can’t stop now,” Abby said, because she absolutely couldn’t; she was so close, a big orgasm was building inside her, and she wasn’t prepared to give it up.

“I’ll pull out.”

Abby nodded, and then she leaned back, gripped his cock tight within her and rode him hard. Marcus’s thumb circled her clit, and her orgasm spread slowly through her like a river reaching its delta until it spiked in her head, setting her teeth on edge.

“God, oh my God,” she said.

Marcus flipped her again so she was on her back and he could control his thrusts which were fast and hard. He groaned loudly and she felt him pull out of her, coming in hot spurts against her thigh.

“Wow,” he said. “God that was good.” He rolled onto his back, still breathing heavily, and Abby rolled towards him, ignoring the stickiness between them.

“Amazing,” she said, and she put her head on his heaving chest. Marcus wrapped his arm around her, pulled her in tight.

“That was definitely worth the wait,” he said.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Marcus make a decision, and Abby has her meeting with Pike

When Abby woke it was still dark. The room was silent except for Marcus’s soft breathing beside her. She turned towards him, and his hand reached out to her, stroked her arm.

“You’re awake,” Abby whispered.

“Just about.”

She felt for his face, found his cheek, stroked it with gentle fingers. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

He leaned towards her and their lips found each other. They kissed, slowly at first, then deeper, more urgently as their passion increased. Marcus rolled on top of Abby and she lifted her legs, wrapped them around his back. He eased his long length into her with infinite slowness, stretching her deliciously. They both sighed. They rocked like that, picking up the tempo, the rhythm, until they were moaning softly in unison. Warmth flooded Abby and she came with a shudder. Marcus pulled out in time to spill onto her belly.

“Mmm,” he said. “That was nice.”

“A lovely way to wake up.” She grabbed a handful of tissues, cleaned herself up, then rolled into his arms. He kissed her head, rested his chin on her hair.

The next time Abby woke it was lighter, but she closed her eyes again, lay quietly for a moment. The memories of her night with Marcus were at the front of her mind, and she wanted to enjoy the replay for a few moments. She stretched and yawned, her back aching from when she’d ridden him so hard the night before. She turned onto her side to ease the pain, and opened her eyes, expecting to see Marcus lying next to her. He wasn’t there. She looked around the room and saw him sitting on the single bed dressed only in his boxers. Clarke was sitting opposite him in her onesie, and he was spooning mashed banana into her mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he said when she ate a big spoonful. “Is it good?”

Clarke nodded at him, reached out to help guide the next mouthful.

Abby propped herself up on one elbow and watched, her heart bursting with happiness. Clarke was so comfortable with him, had been from the start really, and he was great with her. Patient, loving, funny, indulgent. She’d never wondered what it would be like to have another man in Clarke’s life until Marcus arrived, because she’d never thought she’d be able to date again. It had been hard at first, seeing him with her when it should be Jake, but now, now it was wonderful to see her daughter loving someone other than Abby, and being loved by them. She wasn’t jealous at all; she wanted Marcus to enjoy Clarke as much as she did. Clarke deserved as much love as she could get.

Marcus finished feeding her and wiped her mouth with a tissue.

“Mar Mar book pease.” Clarke looked at him expectantly. It was a look Abby found hard to resist, and Marcus was no exception either.

He smiled at her. “I don’t know where mama has put your book. Let me see.”

He got off the bed, turned, and saw Abby was awake and looking at him.

“Hi,” he said. “Mama’s awake,” he said to Clarke, and he picked her up and brought her to their bed, depositing her next to Abby. Clarke curled into her and Abby put her arms around her and squeezed.

“Morning, baby.” She kissed her warm head, then smiled at Marcus. “You gave her breakfast.”

“She was grumbling, and I didn’t want to wake you, so I thought I’d keep her happy.”

“You’re so good with her.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling shyly.

“Come and get in bed with us,” Abby said, holding the cover open for him. Marcus got in and Abby sat Clarke between them. She flicked the TV on, found a cartoon channel, which engrossed Clarke, and they settled back against the pillows and watched the TV together.

\---

After breakfast in the hotel they got the bus to Saint Paul and the Minnesota Children’s Museum. Kane’s heart was beating fast as the familiar landmarks sped past the window once again. The museum was in Downtown, and most of the bus journey was on a route far north of Summit. There was one point, though, where they were at the intersection of 7th St West and Ramsey, and he couldn’t help but look up the hill where he knew Ramsey joined the far end of his old avenue. The house sale still hadn’t gone through; he was starting to think it never would, that it was Rebecca’s fault somehow, her way of keeping a hold on him.

Abby must have sensed something in him because she took his hand and squeezed it. He looked down at her and she smiled up at him. Clarke turned her head to see what Abby was looking at, and Kane gave a kiss to both his girls. Rebecca was his past, and Abby and Clarke his present and his future. He put thoughts of his house and his previous life in Saint Paul out of his mind and concentrated on the people in his life who loved him with no agendas, no secrets or lies, just pure, honest, love.

The museum was enormous fun. Abby didn’t want to get wet or dirty ahead of her meeting with Pike so it was Kane who poured water through tubes and made things spin with Clarke, walked her up and down tiny stairs and held her hands as she went down the slide again and again and again. Kane’s favourite place was Imaginopolis, which was like a space station, and he had more fun than Clarke pressing all the buttons, making the control centre light up.

“I feel like a kid myself,” he said to Abby when they were eating a picnic lunch before having to get the bus back to Minneapolis. 

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m making no comment.”

“This is exactly how I imagined fatherhood to be,” he said, not thinking too deeply about his comment and the ramifications of it until he saw a crease appear in Abby’s forehead and her eyes grow bright. “Not that I see myself as Clarke’s father,” he added hurriedly, cursing himself for being so presumptuous. He’d got caught up in the moment, in his own happiness. He wasn’t Clarke’s father. Jake was.

Abby pressed a kiss to Clarke’s head, then looked up at Kane. “You’re a wonderful father,” she said, and Kane’s heart swelled a hundred sizes.

They were going to be together forever; he knew it. This was it. He was going to be there on Clarke’s first day at school, watch her growing up, teach her, show her the world, watch her make her first steps in it, be there when she fell, when she triumphed. He could see it all.

“Thank you,” he said. He ate his sandwich, wondering if this was a good time to bring up what was going to happen when they got back to Arkadia Falls the following night. Might as well face it; now was as good a time as any. “Are you going to go back to your apartment when we get home?” he said, not looking at her so she wouldn’t feel too much pressure.

She was silent for a long second. “Do you want me to?”

Kane looked at her. “No.”

Abby nodded. “Then we’ll stay.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, a shy smile on her face. Kane leaned towards her, put his hand on her face, his thumb rubbing her lips, then he kissed her, slowly, sweetly.

“I want to spend my life with you,” he murmured.

Abby kissed him softly. “I want nothing more,” she said.

They sat with their arms around each other, Clarke almost squashed between them. It was probably too soon for all this, but they both knew that life was unpredictable, and time forever running out, so what was the point in wasting it if you knew you’d found what you were looking for?

Two hours later and they were seated outside Pike’s office in Minneapolis.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” said Kane for at least the third or fourth time.

“No, I’m fine. Honestly.” Abby patted his knee and smiled patiently.

“You know what you’re worth? You remember what I told you?”

“Yes. I won’t let him get away with fobbing me off, I promise.”

“Okay.” Kane trusted Abby. She’d survived so much and negotiated her life expertly since the accident; she was strong and tough. It was Pike he didn’t trust; he could be a sneaky bastard.

The door to Pike’s office opened, and the man himself came out. Abby and Kane both stood.

“Welcome, Abby,” he said, and he reached out to shake her hand.

“Thank you for seeing me,” replied Abby.

“I’m hoping this will be the start of a beautiful relationship.” He held out his hand to Kane. “Marcus. How are you?”

“I’m fine thank you, Charles.”

Pike looked him up and down, taking in Clarke who was in Kane’s arms. “I heard you were ill recently. Everything okay now?”

“Yes, it was a minor event, nothing a few days’ rest didn’t solve.”

“Good, good.” He swept his hand towards his office door. “Shall we go in?” he said to Abby.

Kane watched as she followed Pike to the door. She turned at the last minute to look at him, and he gave her a small nod of encouragement. She disappeared into the office and Kane looked at Clarke.

“Mama’s going to be a big success, Clarke. You can be very proud of her.”

Clarke put her hand on his cheek. “Book, Mar Mar,” she said.

“You want to read a book? Okay. What about The Very Hungry Caterpillar?” He showed Clarke the book.

“Okay,” she said, and he smiled as he opened the book and started to read it to her.

They’d gone through the book three times before Abby emerged from Pike’s office, a big grin on her face. She was followed by Pike, so Kane didn’t ask her how it had gone.

“I’ll look forward to the final draft, Abby,” said Pike as they walked towards Kane.

“Thank you for your support,” replied Abby. She smiled at Kane, her eyes wide and excited.

“I hope it won’t be too long before we see you again, Marcus,” said Pike. “You were missed at the Christmas ball.”

“I had a prior engagement,” said Kane, the lie slipping too easily from his lips. He was sure Pike knew exactly why he hadn’t been at the ball, but he wasn’t going to admit anything to the man.

“Of course.” Pike nodded. “My secretary will be in touch,” he said to Abby.

“Thank you,” she said, and then Pike went back into his office and Abby threw her arms around Kane and Clarke.

“I take it the meeting went well,” said Kane, when she let him go and he could breathe again.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, and then she sat down, put her head in her hands and cried.

Kane stood with Clarke in his arms, looking at her, at a loss to know what the problem was. She’d seemed so happy, and now she was crying, sobbing even.

“What’s the matter?” he said, sitting next to her, balancing Clarke on his knee.

“He’s offered me an advance,” she said between sobs.

“Well, that’s great, yes. How much?” said Kane, still perplexed at why such good news should result in such heavy tears.

“What you said, pretty much. A six figure, three-book deal.”

“That’s fantastic!” Kane put his arm around her, brought her to him. “I’m so proud of you.”

Abby looked up at him, her eyelashes damp, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’ve had so little, for so long,” she said, and then she dissolved into sobs again.

It was overwhelming for her; Kane cursed himself for not realising that sooner. She’d been living hand to mouth for nearly two years, and now she was facing a wealth she’d probably never dreamed of, even before the accident. Kane realised he took a lot for granted: wealth, status, the ease he felt with both.

“You’ve earned this,” he said, kissing her cheek. “It’s what you deserve.”

She nodded. “I just can’t imagine it.”

“You’re so talented, Abby. I knew it the moment I saw you writing so dedicatedly. When I read your novel I was blown away. I’m not surprised this has happened.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your support.”

“Yes, you could.” He kissed her again. “You have.”

“No. If we hadn’t gone to Duluth; if you hadn’t introduced me to Charles.”

“If you hadn’t written the novel I wouldn’t have had anything to say to Pike. Look.” He put his hand on her chin lifted her head so she was looking at him. “YOU did this. The rest, the introduction et cetera, that’s just how this business works. This is your triumph, and yours alone.”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

“Yes. Clarke is very excited to have a famous mommy, aren’t you, Clarke.” Clarke fixated on a hair in Kane’s nose, and pulled on it. “Ow!” he said, and she giggled.

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Abby said, laughing at them both.

“I need a new nose,” said Kane in a silly voice, making Clarke laugh as well.

\---

Later that night Kane was half sitting, half lying on the bed and Abby was straddling him. His cock was buried deep inside her, and she was rocking back and forth, moaning quietly. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, helping to anchor her in place. Kane captured a breast as it rose to meet him, sucked on it.

“God, yes,” said Abby as he put his hand on her breast to massage it, ran his tongue over the nipple, pressing down hard. He paid the same attention to the other one, then she put her arms around his neck, brought his lips to meet hers.

Kane flipped Abby onto her back, then slipped out of her. “I want you from behind,” he whispered, turning her over.

“Yes,” she murmured.

He parted her ass cheeks and rubbed the head of his cock between her lips before pushing inside her again. The feel of her wrapped around his cock was amazing. It was easy to slide all the way in she was so wet and open, different to the delicious friction of her tight walls when he first entered her, but just as hot. She groaned, and he lay on top of her, covering her smaller body with his larger one, his arms wrapped around her. He pushed her down into the mattress, rocking her so her clit would rub against the sheet with every thrust of his hips. She came quickly, pulsing around him, pinpricks of sweat breaking out on her back, heat warming her skin. He thrust harder, drawing cries from her she tried to smother by burying her face in the pillow.

When he felt his orgasm build he pulled out, slid his cock between her butt cheeks, rubbed himself against her warm flesh, coming powerfully into the cleft of her ass. He rested on top of her while he recovered, then rolled them both so they were still pressed together but on their sides.

“That was so good,” Abby said, reaching back so her hand caressed his thigh.

Kane brushed her hair to one side, kissed her cheek. “It was.” He stroked her hair. “So much for the condoms,” he said with a soft laugh.

“I like to feel you,” said Abby, pressing back against his softening cock.

“I like to feel you too.”

“We’re okay for now; there’s no risk of a mini Marcus, and we know we’re both clean.”

“I can’t wait until I don’t have to pull out.” Kane kissed her neck, the sharp bone of her shoulder.

“Next week.” Abby turned so she was facing him. She put her hand on his cheek, kissed him. “Next week you can come inside me.” Her words were a feathery whisper against his cheek, and a bolt of desire shot through Kane.

“God,” he groaned at the thought. He loved how comfortable she was talking like this; it was hot and turned him on even more.

They showered together, fucked again with Abby pressed against the tiled wall, her legs gripping Kane tightly, water cascading over them both.

Lying in bed after, exhausted, Abby rested her head on Kane’s chest. He stroked her hair absent-mindedly. “Will you still love me when you’re a famous author?” he said.

“Hmmm,” she replied. “Depends on who I meet.”

“You’ll struggle to meet anyone better than me,” Kane said, feeling her smile against his chest.

“Certainly no one with a higher opinion of themselves.”

“Hmmm. True.” He pulled her tighter to him, yawned, and closed his eyes.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Marcus and Abby's last day in Minneapolis, and there's an unwelcome surprise.

The following day they checked out of the hotel but left their luggage in a holding area as their bus wasn’t due to depart until midday. Marcus had given in to some gentle persuasion of Abby’s and had agreed to show her the headquarters of Kane & Co. Abby was excited to see the place that had shaped the young Marcus, and to see Raven and even Vera again.

They left the stroller at the hotel as it was only a short walk and most of the snow on the sidewalks had melted in the warmth of the late winter sun and the heat of the city. Clarke toddled between them, gripped firmly by the hands, and every few steps Abby and Marcus swung her, much to her delight.

“Gen! Gen!” she shouted, and Marcus encouraged Abby to lift her higher and higher. This was something Abby had never been able to do before, having had no one to take Clarke’s other hand. She grinned the whole way to Kane & Co.

When they approached the building Abby was surprised at how small it was compared to the flagship store on Hennepin. Only four stories tall, it had arched windows with original green wooden frames on the upper floors, and the ground floor windows had awnings that stretched out over the sidewalk, sagging with the remnants of snow and meltwater.

“It’s so beautiful!” she said, looking at Kane with a big smile.

“You think so?”

“Yes. What did it used to be, back when it was a warehouse?”

“It was a storage area for grain mostly. They brought it in along the river and it was stored here then transported by railroad across America. Have you noticed that the streets have a different alignment to the rest of the city? We’re at a forty-five-degree angle.”

“Because of the river?”

“Yes.”

“Trust you to come from somewhere that is at odds with everything else.”

Marcus grinned at her. “Are you saying I’m peculiar?”

“In the less well-used meaning of the word, yes.”

“I see, and yet you love me.”

“I don’t know what that says about me.” Abby leaned over Clarke to give Marcus a kiss.

“That you have great taste.” He picked up Clarke and held her against his hip. “Shall we brave my mother, then?”

Abby followed him into the building. They went to the top floor in an old elevator that probably had a man to operate it when the warehouse was a bookstore. It was spooky seeing the bare walls and innards of the building go past the lattice of the iron cage.

The top floor of Kane & Co was an open office area, the computers and phones and chatter of the people seeming out of place with the exposed brick and pipework. Abby thought everyone should be clicking on typewriters, not keyboards. Marcus led her towards the back of the room, where a row of half-timbered doors with opaque glass windows hid the management heart of the company. The windows had the original lettering etched into them. Marcus opened a door labelled Manager.

“This is my office,” he said, gesturing for her to enter. “I have another one in the Hennepin building, but this is where I spend most of my time, well used to.”

His desk was huge: old dark wood with a green blotter set into it. Abby ran her fingers over the grain.

“It’s original,” said Marcus, setting Clarke down in his equally old chair with its cracked red leather and arms worn smooth from over a century of use.

“God, I absolutely love it,” she said, looking around at the old pictures on the walls, some of the warehouse in its heyday, others of when it was a bookstore, the name Kane & Co spelt out on the awnings. “Is that your grandfather?” she said, pointing to a black and white photo of a man with a beard standing stiffly in front of the entrance.

“Yes. He founded the company.”

Abby looked more closely. “He looks like you.”

“Really?” Marcus moved next to her, stood shoulder to shoulder, peering at the picture.

“If you had a beard, I think you would look the same.” Abby gestured to Marcus’s clean-shaven face.

“Would you like me with a beard?” he said, nudging her.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“It might be good in certain places,” Marcus said, looking at her suggestively.

“Hmmm. You might have a point.” Abby put her hand on his ass, squeezed it. Marcus leaned towards her, poised for a kiss.

“Marcus! Abby! What a pleasant surprise.”

Abby and Marcus sprang apart at the sound of Vera’s voice. They turned together. Vera was as well-groomed as ever, her hair straight and not a strand out of place, her skirt and blouse expensive and tailored. She had that same half smile on her face her son wore so often when Abby first met him.

“It’s lovely to see you, Vera.” Abby walked towards her ready to shake hands and was surprised to be enveloped into a brief but warm hug.

“And how is the chi, erm Clarke?” She nodded at the girl who was scribbling on a piece of paper with an expensive looking pen.

“She’s fine.” Abby went over to Clarke. “Stop that, baby,” she said, and took the pen from her which resulted in Clarke starting to cry.

“It’s okay. She’s fine to use it,” said Marcus, but Abby shook her head.

“No, it’s too nice to be ruined.”

“There are other pens in my drawer. Let me look.” Marcus rummaged through the drawer and brought out a handful of pens and pencils. He looked at Abby questioningly. “Is it okay to give her these?”

“Yes, okay.”

He bent his knees next to Clarke’s chair and handed her the pens. “Use these, sweetheart, okay?” Clarke grabbed them from him and Marcus stood, watching her indulgently.

Abby was pleased he’d asked her permission about how to deal with Clarke but she realised that couldn’t go on forever. He couldn’t acquiesce to her every time he wanted to do something with her daughter. They were going to be living together as a family from this day on. Clarke was their daughter now. The enormity of this started to sink in with Abby. She was going to have to give some decision-making to Marcus and that was a surprisingly scary thought. Not that she didn’t trust him, just that she was so used to being the only one in charge of Clarke. It was going to be hard sharing that responsibility with someone else.

Marcus looked at her and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, sorry. I was just thinking.” She looked back at Vera. “This is an amazing building, Vera. I love it.”

“Thank you. Has Marcus told you its history?”

“Some.”

“He’s probably given you the barest of details. I can fill you in.” She took Abby’s arm and walked her around the floor, leaving Marcus to entertain Clarke.

When they returned to his office, Marcus was sitting at his desk with Clarke on his knee, still drawing. Raven was there, and she wrapped her arms around Abby and gave her a fierce hug. “Thank you for looking after the boss,” she said, giving Abby a kiss on the cheek. “He looks almost human!”

“Hey!” said Marcus with a tut and a roll of his eyes.

“You know I love you.” Raven blew a kiss at him, and Marcus rolled his eyes again, smiling. He coughed, cleared his throat.

“Erm, I want to tell you both that, erm, Abby and I. We’re, erm.”

“We know,” said Raven, laughing.

“You do? Know what?” Marcus looked surprised and his naivety made Abby laugh.

“That the sexual tension has been resolved.” She grinned, enjoying Marcus’s reaction.

“What? That’s erm, not what I.” Marcus trailed off. The tips of his ears had gone pink again and he looked down at Clarke.

“Abby had her hand on your ass when I walked in, Marcus,” said Vera, causing Marcus to look up at her in shock.

“Mom!”

Vera raised her hands in a shrug. “I’m only saying the truth. I see you ignored my advice?”

Marcus looked at Abby for help getting out of this situation but she was enjoying his discomfort too much to assist him.

“We’ve decided to seize the day,” he said with an air of finality.

“Good for you,” said Raven.

“Welcome to the family, Abby,” said Vera and she gave Abby a warm smile. Abby was taken aback. Marcus had told her Vera wanted him to take their relationship slowly, and she’d thought his mother would be annoyed or worried, but she seemed relaxed.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“You say that now,” said Raven, “but the Kane family sucks you in and bleeds you dry. I’ve been trying to escape for years.”

“No one is stopping you, Miss Reyes,” said Vera sternly, and Abby wondered if she was only half joking.

“Raven labours under the impression she’s hilarious,” said Marcus.

“It’s my coping mechanism,” she said, and she pulled a face at him. He pulled one back.

“You two are children,” tutted Vera.

Abby watched the easy banter between Marcus and the two women. Didn’t he miss this, deep down? He was wasted stuck up in Arkadia Falls with only Abby to talk to. He should be down here, leading his company, inspiring his staff. Was she holding him back? He was about to be tied even further, with what to all intents and purposes was a wife and child. Maybe they were moving too quickly after all.

“Are you going to take your mother to lunch while you’re here, Marcus?” said Vera.

“I can’t. Our bus back to Arkadia Falls leaves at midday.”

“Your bus?” Vera looked at him incredulously. “Why haven’t you driven?”

Marcus glanced at Abby. “Erm.”

“That’s my fault,” said Abby, swallowing down the sick feeling that always arose when she had to talk about this. “I was involved in a bad car accident nearly two years ago and I don’t like to travel by car since it happened.”

“You didn’t tell me Abby was in the car as well, Marcus.” Vera gave him an admonishing look. “I’m sorry to hear that, love.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” said Marcus, and Abby was grateful that he had kept these most personal parts of her story to himself.

“I was in labour with Clarke when we had the accident, and my husband died, as you may know. It was a difficult time.”

“Oh, God,” said Raven. “That’s why you sat in the back seat and were as white as a sheet when I took you home. I’m so sorry, Abby.”

“It’s fine, but thank you. We’re doing okay now.”

“You’ve done more than okay,” said Marcus. He stood up with Clarke still in his arms, went over to her and kissed her cheek, putting his other arm around her shoulder. “Abby’s just negotiated a book deal with Farm Station Publishing.” He beamed at Raven and his mother, and Abby was grateful to him for lightening the mood with their good news, because as usually happened when people heard her story, the atmosphere had grown dark.

Raven and Vera congratulated her, and it was a full half hour before they finally left the warehouse to head back to the hotel and collect their luggage. Marcus carried a sleepy Clarke and held Abby’s hand.

“Thank you for not telling everyone what happened to me. I appreciate that.”

“I had to tell my mother about Jake because she questioned me about you, and you know what she’s like.”

“I do.” Abby squeezed his hand. “That’s fine. I’m glad they know now. Feels like another hurdle out of the way.”

“My mother is quite old school. She’s not very emotional, at least not outwardly. She won’t smother you. She’ll probably never mention it again unless you do.”

“That’s fine by me.”

Marcus paused so he could lean across and kiss her, and they stood for a moment in the middle of the street, making each other breathless, oblivious to everyone around them.

“Mmm,” said Marcus when they parted. “Can’t wait to get home tonight.”

“I wonder what for?” said Abby.

“I might finally get you to stay the night in my own bed,” he whispered, although it wasn’t as though Clarke could understand what he was saying.

“You might be lucky.”

“Hopefully. I.” He stopped dead, his grip on Abby’s hand tightening until it became painful.

“What’s the matter?” she said, looking round and following his gaze. A woman was standing a few feet away, looking at them. She had long, black hair and was wearing a bright blue dress, high heels and a thin jacket even though it was still cold. Her eyes were a startling blue. Marcus’s hand grew damp where it was grasping Abby’s. This had to be Rebecca.

“Well, well, well,” she said in a clipped accent that sounded English to Abby, though Marcus had told her he and Rebecca grew up together in Minneapolis. “What DO we have here?”

Abby looked at Marcus. He was staring at Rebecca, his face pale, his eyes dark and wide. Abby turned back to his ex-wife, narrowed her own eyes as she took in everything about her. She was stunning; tall and slim with long legs and a tiny waist. Her nose was sharp, her lips full and painted bright red. She had one perfect eyebrow arched as she looked Abby, Marcus and Clarke up and down. Marcus was still silent, so Abby took the initiative.

“You must be Rebecca,” she said.

“I see my reputation has preceded me.” She held out her hand to Abby but Abby was still holding on to Marcus and had no intention of letting him go.

“If you’ll excuse us,” said Marcus, finally finding his voice. He pulled Abby with him as he tried to move past Rebecca but she blocked his way.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no. You don’t get away with just leaving.”

“I’m not getting away with anything,” Marcus snapped. “I’m going about my business.”

“How long has this been going on?” Rebecca said, gesturing to Abby and Clarke. “Quite some time looking at the age of the baby.”

Abby’s heart sank at Rebecca’s words. She knew where this was going. Rebecca was going to play games with him. She rubbed Marcus’s hand with her thumb, trying to will strength into him.

“I’m not commenting on such a ridiculous statement,” he said.

“How is it ridiculous? Now I know why you were in such a hurry to divorce me.”

Marcus sighed angrily. “I divorced you because you married me under false pretences, and you know damned well you did!”

“Well, I don’t know, Marcus. Now I find you have a mistress and a child, so what am I to think? What will the judge think?”

Marcus dropped Abby’s hand and moved towards Rebecca. Abby grabbed his arm, held him back. “She’s not worth it, Marcus,” she said. He shifted Clarke to his other hip, kept both his arms wrapped around her.

“She’s feisty, Marcus. I like her, even though she is a man-stealer. He loves a bit of fire,” she said, directing this last part to Abby. “Turns him on.”

“What happened with you then?” said Abby, unable to stop herself from responding.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a cold, heartless bitch, so I’d imagine any fire in you would die a quick death.” Abby moved in front of Marcus, so she was directly in Rebecca’s sight.

Rebecca sucked in a long breath, then laughed. “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. You’ve got yourself trouble here.”

“Okay, that’s it,” said Marcus, dragging Abby away, pushing past Rebecca.

“I’ve got you in my sights now, you and your secret family. You’ll be hearing from me.”

Marcus stopped, thrust Clarke into Abby’s arms and was off back towards Rebecca before Abby knew what was happening. He got right up into her face. “You’d better damned well leave us alone!” he said. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“Not by a long way,” she said, not flinching. “Adieu, Marcus. Abby.” She raised her eyebrow at Abby when she said her name, and smirked. She turned on her heels and strode off towards the river.

Marcus returned to Abby, breathing heavily. “Goddamnit!” he shouted, making Clarke look up at him and whimper. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said in a quieter voice. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her head and she held her arms out to him. He took her, cuddled her.

“I’m sorry I reacted, Marcus. She pressed the right buttons I guess.”

“She’s good at that. Don’t worry; it’s not your fault.”

“She knows who I am.”

“Of course she does. I was naïve to think I could hide you from her and everyone here.” He took Abby’s hand again and they continued their walk to the hotel.

“What’s she going to do?”

“I don’t know. I guess she has more ammunition for her spurious contest of the divorce.”

“She can’t have proof. We didn’t know each other until after you and she had split up.”

“I know that, but she and her father are powerful. She didn’t nearly stage a successful coup over Kane and Co without having the right people on side. I don’t trust her.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, each with their own thoughts. Abby couldn’t understand what Marcus had ever seen in Rebecca. She was beautiful, yes, but heartless. She must have played the role of loving partner to perfection, and he’d been smitten with her for a long time, so he perhaps didn’t see or chose to ignore some of her less attractive qualities. No wonder he’d been scared to fall in love with Abby, to commit to her.

“I’m glad I met her,” Abby said as they entered the hotel.

“Are you?”

“Yes. It’s good to know your enemy.” She smiled at him, and he caressed her face.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her softly.

“I love you more,” she replied. “Let’s go home.”

\---

“You make me feel so good,” Abby whispered to Marcus as she lay on her back, her legs wrapped around him, her hands caressing the supple muscles of his back. He was covering her with his body, one hand stroking her face, the other tangled in her hair, holding her to him. She liked it like this, slow and gentle, their bodies sliding against each other, nothing between them.

“I love being inside you. I love how you feel against me,” he murmured in return. He kissed her, not leaving her lips until they were both moaning and shuddering.

They lay side by side afterwards, kissing, touching. “I’m in love with you,” said Marcus. “Completely.”

“It’s crazy how much I love you,” said Abby. She meant the words, but she also wanted to make sure he truly believed them, because he’d been quiet on the bus journey home, only brightening up when they were back at his apartment, reading to Clarke. He’d helped Abby put her to bed for the first time, and then they’d come in here, got in bed and let their bodies do most of their talking.

“Are you going to stay the night this time?” he said, stroking the scars on her back.

“Yes. I’ll stay every night.”

He smiled, kissed her nose. “Good,” he said softly. “We’ll have to decorate that room for Clarke, then.”

“That would be nice. She’s never had her own room.”

“What would she like?”

“I’ve never thought about it. I’m not doing The Gruffalo.”

“God, no. Not The Gruffalo. What about planets and stars, something to inspire her?” Marcus’s fingers were circling Abby’s lower back, making her tingle.

“The Wind in the Willows!” said Abby, suddenly inspired herself.

“Oh, yes! That’s perfect.”

“We’ll have to see what we can find.”

“Hmmm. Yes. Tomorrow, though,” he said as he rolled her onto her back again.

“Yes, tomorrow,” said Abby, as Marcus’s weight settled over her, and his lips peppered her skin with hot kisses.


	32. Chapter 32

“You’re not helping, Clarke,” said Kane as she clung to his leg while he was trying to carry a section of her new bed into her room. Clarke giggled and held him tighter. “Abby!” he shouted, but there was no reply.

He leant the bed frame against the wall and limped into the living room, his right leg weighed down by twenty-two pounds of laughing child. There was no sign of Abby. He looked down at Clarke who was looking up at him, thinking this was a great game. Kane supressed a smile, not wanting to encourage her as he had a lot of work to do.

“We’ll see who gets bored of this first,” he said to her, and then he dragged her in and out of every room, but she was as stubborn as her mother could be and wouldn’t let go.

The front door opened and Abby walked in, laden down with two coffees and a white paper bag.

“Where have you been?” Kane said.

She shook the coffees and the bag at him. “Where do you think? I went to get supplies.”

“We have a coffee machine.”

“Yes, but we haven’t figured out how to make a flat white yet, and I miss it. Why are you so grumpy?” She set the drinks and the bag down on the coffee table.

“Your daughter has been surgically attached to me for the last five minutes.”

“She’s my daughter when she’s being naughty, is she? Leave Marcus alone, Clarke.”

Clarke shook her head. Abby rummaged in the bag, pulled out a veggie straw. “Look what mommy got for you!”

The weight on Marcus’s leg was instantly lifted as Clarke toddled over to Abby and took the straw, sucking on it happily. Abby smiled triumphantly at Kane.

“Damn,” Kane said. “I never thought of food.”

“You should know by now.” Abby handed him a coffee and a blueberry muffin.

“I still have a lot to learn.”

“You do.” She kissed him, then headed towards Clarke’s bedroom. “How are you getting along?”

Kane followed her. “Fine. I just have the bed to put together and then we’re done.”

Abby clapped her hands. “I can’t wait! Do you want any help?”

“The best thing you can do is keep Little Miss Trouble occupied while I get on with it.”

Abby sat in the armchair with Clarke on her lap and watched him while he laid out all the elements of the bed in order of when they would be needed.

“I wonder what she’ll make of it?” said Abby.

“She’ll love it, hopefully.”

It had taken nearly two weeks for the special Wind in the Willows wallpaper to arrive, and after Kane and Abby had decorated Clarke’s room with it they’d realised she needed new furniture and a new bed. She was nearly two, and according to Abby it was time to transition from her cot. They’d bought her a sleigh bed with low side rails so she couldn’t roll out of it and that was what Kane was trying to put together. He felt a certain pressure because Abby and Clarke were both watching him and it seemed like a test of his fatherly abilities, which was ridiculous, but nevertheless it was how he felt. He was methodical, though, and soon got lost in the task.

When the last piece was in place, he put the mattress on top and made up the bed. He looked around proudly to get Abby’s approval, but the chair was empty. He went into the living room and she and Clarke were sitting on the sofa watching a cartoon.

“I’ve finished it,” he said, not without some annoyance. “If you want to see it.”

“Of course we do!” Abby got up and carried Clarke into the bedroom. “Oh, it’s amazing! I love it.” She ran her hand over the rails, shaking the bed as she walked around it.

“Are you testing the strength of my work?” Kane said, mildly offended.

“Just to be sure.”

“I would not do shoddy work.”

“I know. Sorry.” She put her hand on his face, kissed his cheek. “Protective, you know. It’s a habit.”

“Yes, sorry. I know.”

“What do you think of your new bed, Clarke?” Abby sat her on the bed and she looked up at them as though she wasn’t sure what the fuss was about.”

“Bed,” she said.

“Yes. Your new bed.” Abby handed Clarke her favourite bunny and she sat back against the rails and started talking to it.

Kane put his arm around Abby. “Are you happy?”

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

Kane was pleased with how the room looked. Decorating a child’s bedroom was not something he’d thought much about doing, even when he’d been planning children of his own. He would have hired someone to do it. He’d taken more pleasure than he’d thought he would in picking out the furniture and the bookcase and new toys for her with Abby.

“She’s going to be happy here,” he said, and Abby let out a sob. He looked down at her. “Don’t cry!”

“I’m happy, honestly. I just never thought she’d have something like this.”

Kane kissed her head. “She deserves it.”

He sat in the armchair and pulled Abby onto his knee. She put her arms around his neck, kissed him. “I was thinking,” she said in a quiet voice. “That we should start to call you daddy now, if you want, rather than Marcus. If I call you that, then she will too eventually.”

Kane was so taken aback by Abby’s suggestion he couldn’t speak. A lump came to his throat, and his pulse increased. He swallowed hard. “Are you sure?” he said at last.

“Yes.” She stroked his face. “She loves you.”

“I know, but I don’t want to replace Jake.”

Abby took a deep, slow breath. “He’s her father, but she’s never known him, and she never will. You’re all she’s ever going to know. You’re her daddy.”

A tear slid down Kane’s cheek at her words. “Thank you,” he said.

“Thank you.”

They sat together on the chair, watching Clarke play with her toy, and Kane’s heart was so full it almost seemed too much to bear. He was a father. He had a daughter. He’d already thought that way about Clarke, but it was an incredible feeling to have it official, and so generous of Abby to give him this gift. He was never going to let either of them down.

\---

“Are you eating properly, Marcus?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Abby’s looking after you?”

“She doesn’t look after me, we look after each other.”

“You’re still recovering; you shouldn’t be doing too much.”

“I’m not. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

Kane rolled his eyes even though Vera couldn’t see him. He’d been on the phone with her for fifteen minutes and so far hadn’t managed to bring the subject round to what he’d called her about.

“Mom.”

“How’s Clarke?”

“She’s great. We’ve decorated her bedroom and she has a new bed. I put it together yesterday,” he said proudly.

Vera ignored his achievement. “So this is it, then? I told you to go slow and you move Abby and Clarke in a day later and now the child has her own bedroom.”

“I thought you liked them,” Kane said, his voice hard-edged. Where was this coming from?

“I do. I do like them, and that’s why I’m saying this. You can’t break their hearts now, Marcus. This is it.”

“I’m not going to break their hearts.”

Abby looked towards him from where she was sitting in the living room and Kane was tempted to shut his office door but that would seem rude and like he had something to hide. He just didn’t want her to hear him saying these things to his mother.

He lowered his voice. “I love her, mom. I love them both. You as good as told me to go for it.”

Vera sighed. “I know I did; I just didn’t expect you to move this fast.”

“Life is short. I’ve had heart problems; Abby lost her husband. Why wait?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Kane heard his mother take a sip of her drink.

“So I’m a grandma now then, am I?” There was warmth in her voice when she said this, and Kane relaxed.

“Yes. I suppose you are. How do you feel about that?”

“Like I’m too young, and also it’s about time.”

Kane laughed. “You’re a very glamorous granny.”

Vera tutted. “Grandma will do. A granny is someone who knits and smells of lavender.”

Kane snorted. “That will never be you.”

“Thank God.”

“Listen mom. I wanted to talk to you about the Rebecca situation.”

“I don’t have a lot to report. We haven’t had any further letters from her lawyer about your divorce. Martin has made some enquiries and she’s believed to be in New York. I don’t know what she’s doing there.”

“She’s up to something. I guarantee it.”

“If she is, she’s biding her time.”

Kane sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. “I hate this. I’d rather she just came out and did whatever else she’s going to do and then I can face it and deal with it.”

“I know, son, but your conversation with her in Minneapolis is the last we’ve heard from her.”

“She threatened me and my family.”

“She was probably shocked to see you and Abby and lashed out.”

Kane nearly dropped the phone in his anger. “What? Don’t go defending her! She wasn’t shocked at all; she knew about Abby. She’s known all along. I told you that!”

“Calm down, Marcus. This is why I told you Martin and I will handle this. You can’t be getting worked up like you are.”

“It’s too late for that. Before, it was some idle threat to the divorce agreement. I don’t care about that. If she’s really bothered she can have all my goddamned money. This time she threatened my partner, my child. That’s not lashing out. That’s cold and calculated and frightening if you must know. I’m  damned well going to be involved in this.”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do right now. She’s not even in Minnesota.”

Kane put his elbows on his desk, rested his head on one hand, the phone pressed tightly to his ear with the other. “I can’t let her hurt Abby and Clarke.”

“We aren’t going to let that happen, darling. I promise. You are not alone. Please remember that.”

“Yes. Yes, okay. Thank you.”

“Good, now can you put Abby on?”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to her.”

“What about?” Kane was highly suspicious after the conversation they’d just had.

“None of your business. Just put her on!”

Kane grimaced but had no choice. He went to the door of his study. “Abby, my mom wants to speak to you.”

Abby looked up, surprised. “Really?”

Kane nodded. She came over to him and he gave her the phone. “Put it on speaker,” he whispered, gesturing to his phone, trying to press the audio button.

Abby shook her head, pulled the phone out of his reach. “No,” she mouthed. “Go away!”

Kane stood with his hands on his hips, and Abby frowned at him. “Yes, I’m here, Vera,” she said, then she pushed him backwards and shut the door.

Fifteen long minutes passed before the door to his office opened and Abby came out. She handed him his cell phone with a smile but no comment, then disappeared into the kitchen. Kane put Clarke in the playpen and followed Abby.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What did she want?”

“None of your business,” she said, echoing Vera.

Kane stood with his hands on his hips and frowned at Abby.

“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” she said, smiling.

“What is?”

“Not knowing something.” She pulled pans out of the drawer and put them on the stove. “What would you like for dinner?”

She was right, it was killing him. Had they talked about him? Rebecca? Him and Rebecca? Him and Abby? What had Vera needed to talk about privately to her? “It’s just. I don’t want her saying anything, I don’t know, untoward to you. You know what she can be like.”

Abby laughed as she took out an onion and started to chop it. “She was lovely. She’s excited to be a grandma.”

“She said that?”

“Yes, and that’s all I’m going to tell you. Now, will Spaghetti Bolognese be okay?”

“Yes. Fine. Thank you.” Kane waited to see if Abby would elaborate further, but she was concentrating on her tasks, humming something tuneless, a smile on her face. She wasn’t going to tell him even if he threatened to withhold sex from her until she did, which he would never do, because that would be the very definition of cutting off your nose to spite your face. “I’ll be with Clarke,” he said.

Abby looked up and smiled. “Thank you. Dinner won’t be long.”

Kane stared at her a moment longer, then turned on his heels and went back into the living room to play with Clarke. He’d wheedle the truth out of Abby later, one way or another.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby settle into life together, and there's news about Rebecca

“Duck!” said Clarke, waving her plushie in the air.

“Yes, duck. We forgot about him.” Abby took the duck from Clarke and placed him in the box labelled Condo. They were at her apartment, packing up some essentials to take to their new home with Marcus. She wasn’t letting go of the place completely. Not yet. It held a lot of memories, good ones, despite the circumstances, and she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to it permanently. The rent was paid up for the quarter, and there wasn’t enough room at the condo for everything anyway. Marcus had said there was no rush to let the place go, and although he was currently paying for most of their upkeep, Abby had her advance to look forward to. They could afford to keep this tiny, memory-laden apartment for a while yet.

“You’re not bringing this instant coffee with you, are you?” Marcus grimaced as he showed the can to Abby.

“You made me a cup of that in this apartment,” said Abby, for whom everything was laced with nostalgia.

“If I promise to master a flat white with my coffee machine, can we leave it here?”

“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse,” said Abby. Marcus returned the coffee to the cupboard.

Abby rummaged through Clarke’s remaining toys. “Aww, look at this baby,” she said to an indifferent Clarke. “This was the first thing mommy bought you.” She turned the teddy bear over in her hands, examining it. It was in good condition considering Clarke couldn’t be parted from it for the first year of her life. She moved to add it to the box but Clarke reached out, took the bear.

“Bear bear,” she said.

“That’s right.”

“What’s this?” said Marcus, bringing a taped-up box into the living room.

“The first thing I ever bought Clarke. She was three months old before I could get out to the stores. I mean, Sandra had bought her some things, but this was the first toy I got her.”

“Well, we have to bring that home, Clarke, don’t we?” Marcus sat on the floor next to Clarke and Abby. “What else do you have?”

“There’s something,” said Abby. “I hope you won’t mind if we bring it.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll just get it.” Abby went to her bedroom, stood looking around the tiny room. Only she and Clarke had ever been in here. It had been their sanctuary. Well, Abby’s sanctuary. Clarke probably didn’t have any feelings at all about the room. She wouldn’t remember it when she grew up, except through Abby’s memories. Abby took a picture with her phone, to show Clarke one day. She walked into the space where Clarke’s cot used to be and reached up to take the precious item from the ceiling. She returned to the living room, handed it to Marcus.

“A dreamcatcher,” he said, turning it over in his hands.

“Jake bought it for Clarke, before she was born obviously. It has our faces on it. Mine and Jake’s at first, and then I added Clarke when she was born.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Marcus, looking at the photos, caressing the feathers from which they hung.

“You don’t mind if we bring it?”

“Of course not. I want Jake to be a part of her life.”

Tears sprang to Abby’s eyes. He was so kind, so generous. “We should add your picture to it as well.”

Marcus shook his head. “No. It’s a Griffin family thing.”

“You’re part of the Griffin family, just like we’re part of the Kane family. You should be on this.”  

“If you’re sure.” Marcus looked at her, then leaned in to kiss her.

“We’re one family.” Abby placed the dreamcatcher in the box. She moved over to the bookshelves, picked up the loon, turned around to show it to Marcus. “This has to come with us.”

“Definitely.”

“The first thing you bought me.” She turned it over in her hands like she had the day he’d given it to her. “Where did you get it?”

“In Duluth, at the festival.” Marcus stood beside her, put his arm around her.

“Really?” Abby was surprised. That was way back at the beginning, when they barely knew each other. “What made you buy it then?”

Marcus took the carving, smiling as he looked at it. “I don’t know. I saw you liked this kind of thing and it reminded me of that chapter in Anna Nelson’s book.”

“The one about Voyageurs National Park?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a great chapter.”

“I know. It was our favourite. I bought the loon, but it didn’t feel appropriate giving it to you then. I figured one day it might be.”

“It was.” Abby reached up and kissed him long on the lips. Duluth felt like a long time ago. She wondered if Marcus had thought about her romantically longer than he’d admitted, to her or himself. He was a thoughtful person, but noticing what someone liked, buying them a gift on the off chance that one day you might give it to them, seemed more than a casual whim.

“What are we going to do with all your books?” said Marcus when they parted.

“I can donate any that we have in common.”

“I guess I can make space in the dining room. It’s not like we need a table and chairs.” He looked down at her, a smirk on his face.

“I don’t have that much stuff!”

“I know. It’s nice to have your things in the house. I remember when I first came here I was struck by how personal everything was. You’d surrounded yourself only with things that mattered to you. My place seemed so cold in comparison.”

“Well, I didn’t have space for anything that wasn’t useful or of sentimental value.”

“I know, but I had a lot of space and nothing personal at all.”

“You probably didn’t think you were staying.”

Marcus sighed as he looked around. “That’s true. I didn’t want to feel tied down, or like this was a permanent thing.”

“How’s that working out for you?” said Abby, her smile tentative because sometimes she wondered if she and Clarke had burst into Marcus’s life like two whirlwinds, and one day he’d catch his breath and wonder what the hell he was thinking moving a woman and her child into his life, his home.

“I would say my feelings changed when you came into my life,” he said, smiling warmly at her.

“Are you sure?”

Marcus’s smile turned to a frown. “You keep asking that. Do you doubt me, or are you not sure?”

“I don’t doubt you. It’s just, we’ve moved fast, in the end. Taken some big steps. I...”

Marcus came up to her, cut her off by putting his hands on either side of her face. His thumbs rubbed her lips. “Meeting you, falling in love with you, has been the best thing I’ve ever done. I want to spend my life with you and Clarke. I have no doubts, no regrets. This is it for me.”

“It’s the same for me,” Abby whispered, and she was enveloped in Marcus’s arms.

“I love you,” he murmured into her neck.

“I love you too.”

They pulled apart, smiling at each other.

“Okay, then,” said Marcus, putting his hands on his hips and looking around the room. “Let’s get this finished.”

Abby organised the rest of the packing and Marcus took boxes down to the van he’d hired for the move. There was a box of toys left to move and Clarke still had hold of Bear.

“Are you going to give Bear to daddy, Clarke, so he can pack it?” Abby had been using the term to refer to Marcus for a couple of weeks now, pointing at him when she said it. It still felt strange to call him that, but he beamed every time she said it, and it was starting to get easier. So far, Clarke had continued calling him Mar Mar but had started to acknowledge that Abby meant Marcus when she said daddy.

She looked up at him now with her big blue eyes and Marcus knelt beside her. “I’ll look after Bear, Clarke,” he said. “He’ll be safe with me.”

Clarke nodded. “Bear go home.”

Marcus looked up at Abby, surprised. “Yes! Bear is going home with us. He’s going to live in your bedroom with you. Do you like that?”

“Yes.” Clarke handed Bear to Marcus and he laid him gently in the box then picked it up.

“Okay. I’ll put this in the van and I guess I’ll meet you two back home.” He gave Abby a kiss then disappeared out of the door.

Abby picked up Clarke and looked around. The apartment seemed larger without all her books and ornaments and Clarke’s toys. Only the furniture that had come with the apartment remained. She wandered into each room, looking around to see if they’d forgotten anything, and quietly saying goodbye. Then she shut the front door behind her, picked up the stroller and headed downstairs.

When she reached the second floor she stopped and knocked on 203. Mrs Larson opened the door.

“Abby, love,” she said. “What a nice surprise.”

“I just came to say goodbye. Well, not goodbye, goodbye, but you know. We’ve moved out of the apartment for good today.”

“I saw your man up and down the stairs with all the boxes. You’ve got a good one there if he’s willing to do that for you.”

Abby smiled. “I know. He’s a wonderful man.”

“You deserve it, love.”

“Thank you and thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Clarke. I don’t think I would have survived some of the time if it weren’t for you.” Tears welled in Abby’s eyes and she brushed them away.

“Of course you would. You’re strong, and anyway it’s been a pleasure. I’m going to miss you both.” She kissed Clarke on the cheek, and then Abby.

“We’re still on for coffee next week, though?”

“Of course! I’m looking forward to it.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye, Abby. Bye Clarke.” She blew them a kiss then shut the door.

Abby walked down the last two flights and opened the stroller, depositing Clarke into it, fastening her in. She opened the outer door for the last time, and eased the stroller through, bouncing it down the steps as Clarke laughed like she always did. Once on the sidewalk she looked up at the crumbling building that had been her home, her safe place despite its shortcomings.

“Bye,” she said, then she pointed the stroller in the direction of Marcus and home.

\---

“Are you going to be good for mommy, Clarke, and go to sleep?” Abby was sitting on the end of Clarke’s bed, a desperate look on her face while Clarke sat at the other end, wide awake, laughing at her.

Kane stood next to Abby, not interfering because he had no better idea than Abby about how to get Clarke to sleep.

“Book!” said Clarke, grinning.

“You’ve had two bedtime stories already.”

“Want more.”

Abby sighed, looked at Kane who shrugged. “If daddy reads you one more story will you go to sleep?”

Clarke nodded, but Kane had the feeling she was paying lip service to this idea and he’d end up reading until it was him who fell asleep.

“She’s all yours,” said Abby, her tone exasperated, but her eyes smiling. Kane thought she was loving the fact that there was finally someone else to share the burden with. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to be the only one parenting Clarke, having to cope with all the bad times as well as the good ones with no one to even talk to about it. He was happy to shoulder his share of the work.

“Go and get a drink,” he said. “I’ll be fine with her.”

Abby wasted no time leaving the room, giving Kane only the briefest of kisses as she passed him.

Kane lowered the side bars so he could sit closer to Clarke. “Shall we have Brown Bear, Brown Bear?” he said, and she clapped her hands. “Okay.”

Kane read the book and Clarke had heard it so many times she could anticipate most of the words. He toyed with her, waiting longer and longer to say the final word of each rhyme so that she would get excited and shout it out. It probably wasn’t the best way to get her to sleep, but this was all still new to him, and he was enjoying her enthusiasm. It took two more reads of the story and one of The Very Hungry Caterpillar before Clarke’s eyes started to close and her head drooped onto her chest. Kane waited a moment to see if she was really gone, and then he laid her down, pulling her duvet over her. He leaned in and kissed her.

“Night, angel,” he said, and then he pulled up the bars and switched out the light.

“What was all that noise?” said Abby when he flopped next to her on the sofa.

“Brown Bear, Brown Bear,” said Kane, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Were you teasing her again?”

A smile spread across Kane’s face. He couldn’t see Abby, but he felt her slap his knee.

“You can deal with her grumpiness tomorrow when she’s not had enough sleep,” said Abby.

“It will be worth it.” Kane opened his eyes again. “I was wondering something earlier, actually.”

“What happened to you in your life to make you torment others so?”

Kane laughed. “That’s just my playful nature. No, I’ve noticed you call yourself mommy when you speak to Clarke now, but she calls you mama. Do you prefer mama or mommy?”

“Well, I’d like her to call me mommy ideally, but mama is fine. It’s what she’s always called me.”

“That’s because it’s easier for her to say at this stage in her development.”

Abby looked at Kane with surprise. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been doing some reading, and there are YouTube videos.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” said Abby, “what with you being so diligent.” She smirked.

“Hey!” said Kane. “Take that back!” He pulled her onto his knee and tickled her. He’d discovered she was ticklish almost everywhere and it was easy to bring her round to whatever he wanted just by torturing her with his fingertips.

“Stop! Stop!” said Abby breathlessly.

“Hmm. No!” Kane flipped them over so Abby was on her back on the sofa and he was on top of her. He tickled her more gently and then kissed away all her protestations. She put her arms around his neck, ran her fingers through his hair making his scalp tingle. They made out with growing urgency. Kane pushed Abby’s top over her breasts, kissed her stomach. He had his hands on her jeans, and she was wriggling out of them when his landline rang.

“Don’t stop,” Abby said.

“I wasn’t going to.” Kane pulled down her jeans, pressed a kiss to her pale blue panties.

The answer machine clicked on. “Marcus, it’s your mother. Pick up the phone if you’re there.”

Kane groaned and looked at Abby. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Marcus! Pick up! I’m going to keep calling until you answer. Why is your cell phone switched off?”

Kane sat back. He looked at Abby sprawled beneath him, her eyes dark, her face pink, her breaths short. Damnit. The phone rang off and then rang again.

“It must be important,” said Abby as she tried to pull her jeans back up.

“It won’t be.” Kane got up, went to the phone. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said to Abby, and then he answered with a grumpy “what?”

“Ah, you ARE there,” said Vera, ignoring Kane’s rudeness.

“I am, but I’m busy. What do you want?”

“Marcus!” said Vera in a surprised voice.

“Marcus!” said Abby from the sofa.

Kane looked at her and shrugged. She gave him an admonishing look. Kane sighed. “Sorry, mother. How can I help you?”

“I have some news on Rebecca. I thought you’d want to know straight away, but if you’re too busy...”

“No, I’m not too busy. Let me put you on speaker so Abby can hear.”

“Hello, dear,” said Vera.

“Hi, Vera. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Abby. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“And Clarke?”

Kane lost his temper because he was frustrated, and the mention of Rebecca’s name set him on edge like it always did. “You’re both fine. We’re all fine. Everybody is fine. What is your news?”

Vera tutted over the phone. “I’m not sure you’re in the right frame of mind to hear it, Marcus.”

Kane took a deep breath. He had to stop letting every mention of Rebecca light him up like a rocket. “I’m sorry. I am ready to hear it. What do you know?”

“When she was in New York she consulted an expert in family law.”

“What does that mean?” said Kane, looking at Abby whose face registered the alarm he was feeling.

“It might not be anything to do with you.”

“It seems very coincidental that she threatens my family and then she goes to see a family lawyer.”

“I know, but what can she do to you, Marcus? Clarke isn’t yours, and you weren’t with Abby when you and Rebecca were together. I fail to see what this has to do with you both.”

“I don’t trust her, mom.”

“I know, son. Neither do I. The other news you won’t like either.”

Kane’s heart thumped against his chest. He must have showed his concern because Abby came over to him, took his hand. “What is it?”

“Her regular lawyer has sent a letter trying to put a block on the house sale, claiming that it’s an asset she should have a share in. It’s part of the overall petition against the divorce.”

Kane’s heart beat faster and his head started to pound as his blood pressure rose. “How can she contest that? I bought that house. She contributed nothing to it, and when I think about it, she contributed nothing financially our entire relationship.”

“Martin is dealing with that. I don’t want you to worry about it.”

“It’s hard not to. I meant what I said the other week. She can have the damned house if that’s what it takes to get rid of her.”

“Well, that’s a last resort. We’re not giving her anything if I can help it.”

“I don’t know, mom. I just want her gone.”

“Don’t give up, darling. Concentrate on the positive things in your life. You have the festival soon, right?”

“Yes. In two weeks.” Kane looked at Abby who still had hold of his hand. She smiled up at him, but it didn’t make him feel calmer. Before she came into his life he had nothing left to lose. Rebecca could have taken him for everything and at the end of the day it wouldn’t have mattered. Now he had everything he’d ever wanted, and therefore everything to lose. He smiled at Abby, though, because he didn’t want her to worry.

“Then think about that. Let us worry about Rebecca.”

“Are you coming to the festival, Vera?” said Abby.

“I thought I might come up with Raven, if Marcus wants me there.”

“Of course I want you there,” said Kane. “You’re as much Kane and Co as I am.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, then.”

“We’ll look forward to it, Vera,” said Abby, and then she moved in front of Kane and started to unbuckle his pants, causing him to jump.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“What’s that, Marcus?” said Vera.

“Nothing, mom.”

Abby grinned as she pulled the zipper of his pants down, got her hand inside and squeezed his cock. Kane tried to stifle a moan, not very successfully.

“Are you okay?”

Kane closed his eyes as Abby took out his cock and ran her hand up his length. All his blood rushed south, and he felt light-headed.

“Yes, I’m fine. I have to go now.”

“You’re worrying me, son.” The concern in Vera’s voice nearly put a dampener on Kane’s desire until Abby spoke again.

“Don’t worry. Marcus is in good hands,” she said, and Kane had to cough to cover up his shocked intake of breath.

“Hmm,” said Vera, who wasn’t stupid. “I’m going to leave you to it.”

“See you in a couple of weeks,” said Abby brightly as she stroked Kane’s cock harder.

“Bye, mom,” said Kane in a strangled voice and then he ended the call before Vera could hear the deep moan that was about to come out of him. “What the hell?” he said to Abby.

“I want to finish what we started,” she said, her eyes wide and mischievous.

“And you couldn’t wait another minute?”

“No,” she said, and then she backed him up against the counter and kissed him until he couldn’t think of anything except the need to be inside her as soon as possible.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Arkadia Falls Literary Festival, and a LOT happens!

The day of the festival Abby was awake ridiculously early. She’d hardly slept because thoughts about the day ahead were running constantly through her mind. When she could lie in bed no longer, she left Marcus sleeping and headed for the kitchen. It was only five o’clock. Too early to wake Clarke. Too early to do anything. She made a coffee and sat at the dinner table with her laptop, going through the schedule once again.

All the tents and stalls were already up on the event field. Caterers and stallholders were arriving at eight-thirty. Abby was dropping Clarke off with Mrs Larson an hour before that and the festival was opening at ten. Raven and Vera had texted late last night to say they’d arrived and that took care of the Kane & Co stand. The river walk storytelling was taking place at two o’clock and there was music, a bonfire and fireworks in the evening. It was going to be a long day for her and Marcus, but this was what they’d been working towards for months, and she was excited and nervous.

She closed her laptop, took her coffee to the patio door and looked out across the balcony to the river below. The sky was lightening although the sunrise was still a good hour away. There were few clouds, and the weather report was for cold but dry, with a high of eight degrees. She couldn’t ask for better at this time of year. She took a sip of her coffee as she watched the moonlight ripple on the surface of the river. A warm body appeared behind her; strong arms sneaked around her waist and held her tight. Soft lips nuzzled into her neck.

“Hey,” murmured Marcus.

Abby turned in his arms, putting one hand on his boxer-clad ass, holding her coffee mug out to the side with the other. “Hi,” she said, and she reached up to kiss him.

“Mmm. I taste coffee,” Marcus said, and he took her hand, brought the mug to his lips and took a sip.

“I can make you one,” said Abby.

“In a minute.” Marcus took the coffee from her and put it on the table, then turned her again so they were both looking out at the river. His hands slid inside her pyjama bottoms, caressed her stomach. “You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you worried about today?”

“Not worried, just a little tense.”

“I can help with that,” he said as his hand slipped lower.

Abby sighed. “There’s no time for that.”

“Of course there is,” he whispered, and he put his hand beneath her panties, ran his fingers over her lips. He wrapped his other arm around her chest, holding her to him, his hand on her breast. He tweaked her nipple with strong fingers while his other hand worked between her legs. Abby came in a rush of heat, staggering against Marcus as her limbs weakened.

“God,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting that this morning.”

“Sets you up for the day.” He kissed her hair. “Why don’t you go and grab a shower, get dressed. I’ll get Clarke up.”

Abby turned again and rested her head on his broad chest. “Are you sure?” she said, sighing contentedly.

He kissed her hair again. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

She showered and dressed, and when she went out into the living room she could hear Marcus talking to Clarke as he bathed her in the family bathroom. She couldn’t make out much of what they were saying but the word bubbles came up a few times. Clarke was probably buried up to her head in it because he’d put too much in as usual. Abby smiled, then put some more coffee on, made toast and jelly for them all. They ate the simple breakfast and then Abby fastened Clarke into the stroller.

“I’ll see you at the festival then,” she said to Marcus, who was picking up his mother and Raven on route.   

“We’ll be there,” he said. “A Kane family day out.” Abby couldn’t tell if his smile was one of joy at the prospect or a grimace.

She was full of endorphins and happy as she pushed Clarke along the riverbank towards her old apartment building, her nerves gone. It was going to be a great day.

\---

Kane stood next to the Kane & Co stand and looked around with satisfaction as the festival got into its swing. Judging by the numbers of people already here it was going to be a successful day, attendance-wise at least. He could see Abby across the field, talking animatedly to Anna Nelson. She’d been nervous this morning but now she was laughing and smiling and clearly in her element. His heart swelled with love and pride.

“You’ve done well, son,” said Vera, breaking into Kane’s reverie. He turned to look at her.

“Thanks, mom.”

“I know I wasn’t hugely supportive of this initiative at the beginning.”

Kane raised an eyebrow at the size of her understatement.

“Yes, yes,” said Vera, smiling. “But I take it all back. This is wonderful, and it’s been just what you needed. I can see that now.”

“Abby’s done most of the work, but I appreciate what you’re saying.”

“She’s been good for you.” Vera smiled warmly when she looked across to where Abby was standing. Abby must have sensed them watching because she looked up and waved.

Kane waved back. Vera held up a stately hand.

“You’re not going to come back to Minneapolis, are you?” said Raven who had just finished serving a customer.

“I don’t know about that. It’s too soon to make those kinds of decisions.”

“You’re happy here. It’s written all over your big, stupid face.”

“I’m happy wherever Abby and Clarke are,” he replied, ignoring her friendly insults.

“I can’t see them wanting to leave here. It’s beautiful.” Raven looked around her with a sigh.

“Why don’t you move up here?” said Kane, voicing something he’d been thinking about for a while.

“Me?” Raven looked surprised. “And do what?”

“I’ve agreed a deal with the University to open a branch there, and I’m in talks with people in Duluth about another outlet, one that combines the virtual and the physical bookstore. I need someone to help me run it, maybe take over in time.”

Raven stared at him open-mouthed.

“You’re always saying you run Kane and Co single-handed.” Kane smiled at her, enjoying having shocked her into silence.

“I know, but.”

“It sounds like a good opportunity, Miss Reyes,” said Vera.

“You just want to get rid of me.”

“Quite the opposite. I see you as the daughter I never had.”

Raven’s eyes grew wide and bright, and a lump came to Kane’s throat. What had got into his mother today?

“I.” Raven shook her head. “Wow.”

“Congratulations, mother,” said Kane. “You’ve rendered Raven speechless.”

Vera looked non-plussed, but there was a sparkle in her eyes. “I think you’re wanted, Marcus,” she said, nodding in Abby’s direction. Kane looked up to see her beckoning to him.

“I’d better go. I’ll catch up with you later.” He turned after he’d gone a few steps. “Think about what I said, Raven.”

He crossed the event field, weaving in and out of the crowd until he reached Abby.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.” She smiled at him. “You remember Anna Nelson from the book reading.”

“I do.”

“This is my partner, Marcus Kane,” Abby said. “I think you’ve talked on the phone but not met.”

“That’s right. Pleased to meet you.” Kane shook Anna’s hand. He was smiling not from the pleasure of meeting Anna but from the fact that Abby had called him her partner. She hadn’t referred to him as anything like that before, hadn’t had to, he supposed. It felt good.

“I hear my books brought you and Abby together,” said Anna.

“She told you that?” Kane looked at Abby who was smiling shyly.

“It’s a cute story.”

“I told her about the book reading and how you were too chivalrous to tell me I’d dragged you out of your way because I was talking so much about her work.”

“I’m not sure chivalry had much to do with it,” said Kane with a grin.

A volunteer came out of the tent to tell them they were ready to start the reading, and Anna disappeared inside.

“I’d better go in with her,” said Abby.

“I’m going to do the rounds, make sure the stallholders are happy.”

“Okay.” She kissed him. “Clarke is arriving at one. Will you look out for her and Mrs Larson if I’m not done here?”

“Of course I will.”

Kane watched until the tent flap closed around her and then went to talk to the exhibitors.

By one o’clock the competing smells of different cuisines hung in the air, and Kane’s stomach was rumbling. Mrs Larson headed towards him, pushing an excited Clarke in her stroller. She held her hands out towards Kane before the wheels had even stopped turning.

“Out!” she demanded.

“Yes, miss,” said Kane, and he unfastened her and swung her around in the air before holding her against his hip.

“She’s been desperate to see you,” said Mrs Larson.

“Thank you for bringing her. Are you going to stay and have a look around?”

“I will. I might get something to eat first.”

“Have something on us,” said Kane, pressing more than the agreed babysitting fee into her hand. “You’ve been wonderful.”

“Thank you. Tell Abby I’ll see her later.”

When she’d gone Kane set Clarke down on the ground and walked over to Kane & Co, holding her hand and pushing the stroller. Vera and Raven exchanged looks as he approached.

“Shut up,” he said, before either of them could make any jokes about his status as father.

“Never said a word,” said Raven grinning.

“Hello, Clarke,” said Vera, bending towards the little girl. “I suppose I’m your grandmother.”

Clarke wrapped both arms around Kane’s leg and hid behind him. “I don’t blame you, sweetheart,” he said as he put a reassuring hand on her head. “She scares me too.”

“Marcus!” Vera tutted.

“What’s happening?” said Abby as she approached them.

“My mother is frightening our daughter.”

“I was trying to introduce myself. I am her grandmother after all.” Vera put her hands on her hips and glared at Marcus.

“She’s probably overwhelmed with all the people,” said Abby, extricating Clarke from Kane’s leg and picking her up, covering her face with kisses. “Did you miss me, baby?”

Clarke nodded and buried her face in Abby’s neck.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” said Kane.

“I’ll go and get us something,” said Raven, taking orders and disappearing.

“This is your grandmother, Clarke,” said Abby, pointing at Vera. “Grandma Kane.”

Clarke looked at Vera with wide eyes. Vera held her hand out towards Clarke’s face as though she was approaching a strange dog and letting it sniff her. Clarke continued staring. Vera’s fingers hovered next to Clarke’s cheeks, then she stroked her face tentatively.

“Hello,” she said.

Clarke stared some more, then wriggled in Abby’s arms. “Down, mama,” she said, and Abby set her on the grass.

“That was like the meeting of Doctor Livingstone and Stanley,” said Kane, and they all laughed.

\---

“I’m so excited about this,” said Abby as she and Marcus made their way to the river for the start of the Wind in the Willows walk. “I saw the rehearsals yesterday and it was awesome.”

Kane put his arm around her as she pushed the stroller. “This was the first thing we thought of,” he said.

“All those months ago.” Abby reached up for an awkward kiss as they walked.

“A lot of water has flown along this river since then.”

“Yes.” Abby looked at the gaggle of adults and children ahead. There was a line of strollers waiting to go, rocking backwards and forwards like athletes on the front row of a race. The actors dressed as characters were mingling with the people, getting them excited for the event. “Happy times,” she said.

Ratty got into his rowing boat, and Mole, Badger and Mr Toad crossed to the other side of the river so they could be seen by everyone. They were miked up and this was the thing Abby was most nervous about, because the microphones had caused them some issues in the rehearsal. Her abridged version started with Mole discovering the river for the first time, and she held her breath in anticipation as the actor playing him came forward. She breathed a sigh of relief when his words came out loud and clear.

Marcus was kneeling beside Clarke. “Can you see Mole, Clarke?”

“Want out, daddy,” she said, struggling against her restraints, and Abby’s heart stopped as she heard Marcus’s sharp intake of breath.

He looked up at her and she looked down at him and they both just stared at each other. “Aww,” said Abby, when she found her voice. Marcus’s cheeks had turned pink and his eyes were bright as they searched hers. He smiled broadly, then he looked down at Clarke.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said, and he picked her up and held her out in front of him so she could see what was happening. His pose was so like when he first held Clarke on the bus to Duluth it made Abby’s breath catch. The same and yet so different. He was so confident with her now, so at home with her, and she felt completely safe with him. They adored each other and it made Abby want to cry with happiness.

They took turns carrying Clarke along the riverbank, and she got heavier and heavier the further they went. Abby was relieved when she grew tired of being shifted from hip to hip and gestured to return to the stroller.

Abby had arranged for lanterns and fairy lights to be strung amongst the trees and in the darker areas where the trees grew cheek by jowl and bent towards each other over the water, they glowed red and blue and green. Clarke couldn’t stop staring and pointing at them.

“It’s a shame she’s too young for memories to form,” said Abby. “This has been magical.”

“We’ll have to do it every year,” said Marcus, “and then she will remember.”

“Every year! That would be a lot of work, Marcus.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to work on it again. You’ll have your novels to concentrate on. I was thinking more about if Raven moves up here, then she could help me.”

Abby stopped walking, causing the couple behind them to bump their stroller into the back of Marcus’s shins. He yelped.

“Sorry,” said Abby, to him and the couple behind. “Hang on a minute,” she said to Marcus, pulling him to the side. “What do you mean if Raven moves here?”

“I mentioned it to her earlier. I thought she could help me run the business up here. There’s the university branch and the prospect of something in Duluth.”

Abby was taken aback. “You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Okay.” Abby felt a mixture of emotions at this news. The festival was their baby, and the thought of handing it over to someone else stung a little, even though Marcus was right and she wouldn’t have the time. There was also the fact that he was making decisions about their future without talking to her. He was assuming they’d stay in Arkadia Falls, but Abby wasn’t convinced that was the right thing in the long term. He needed to be with his employees, at the heart of his business.

“I’d like to talk about this some more,” she said, because she didn’t want to be left out of decisions or to set a precedent for their future relationship. “Though not today.”

“Of course,” he said, smiling down at her.

He had no idea what was going through Abby’s mind, she could tell that by looking at his smiling face and his warm brown eyes. He was happy and wanted to stay in the place that had brought him that happiness, but was it really the best thing for him? Today wasn’t the day for that kind of discussion, though. Abby put it out of her mind. She handed control of the stroller to Marcus and linked her arm through his as they made their way back up the riverbank to the end of the walk.

\---

Kane sat on a log with his arm around Abby watching the flames of the bonfire flicker and dance. They were childless, because it was late in the evening and his mother and Raven had driven Clarke home to give him and Abby some time together at the end of the festival. He hadn’t been convinced that they would get Clarke to sleep as she barely knew them, but Raven had sent him a text with a picture of her posing with her thumbs up next to a sleeping Clarke.

A band was playing, and the stars were out above them. Kane had thought back over the day, the success their first festival had been, but above all of that, the moment he kept returning to was the start of the Wind in the Willows walk, when Clarke had called him daddy for the first time. His heart had burst out of his chest and was still splattered on the riverbank a few hundred yards from where they were sitting.

He’d fantasised about what that moment would be like ever since Abby had started calling him the name, and when it had come it had been out of the blue, and more shocking and wonderful because of it. Who would have thought running away to this small town would have led to all of this?

Abby rested her head against his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice gravelly after a day of talking to so many people. “A little tired, that’s all.”

“We don’t have to stay to the end. The staff and volunteers know what they’re doing.”

“Just a few minutes more.” She looked up at him and he bent his head to kiss her. Her arms snaked around his neck and he wrapped his around her back and they sat like that, kissing, oblivious to everyone else around them.

“You did a wonderful job today,” said Kane when they took a breath. “I am so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too. I think you’ve really put Kane and Co on the map up here.”

“Mother was happy,” he said.

“Well, that’s all that matters.” Abby grinned at him.

“Shall we go home? I want you completely to myself.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be up for anything like that,” said Abby as she stood and held her hand out to him. “I’m ready for sleep.”

“It’s not all sex with me, you know. I just want to be with you, to lie with you in my arms.”

“I know, sorry. I want the same.” She pulled Kane to his feet and they walked arm in arm towards the river.

The light from the lanterns strung in the trees reflected in the river, giving Kane the feeling he was walking through one of the fairy tales he read to Clarke.

“This is stunning, Abby,” he said.

“Thanks. It’s pretty close to what I imagined, although if I’d had more time I would have liked animals and characters from different stories lit up and hidden in secret areas along the way. I think the kids would love looking for those.”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

They walked hand in hand along the bank, and Kane was so happy his heart was beating fast and his limbs were tingling. His breathing became shallow and he wasn’t sure why. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and he had the feeling he often got when he had a good idea, like something amazing was going to happen, something portentous. A firework went off, causing them both to jump, and then laugh.

“The display is starting,” said Abby.

They stopped and looked up at the sky as the fireworks burst over them in colourful showers, crackling and popping. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss Abby, and he turned and pressed her back against a tree, his mouth seeking hers with urgency. She moaned and kissed him back, her fingers tangled in his hair. Kane ran his hands up her arms to her face, cradled her cheeks in his palms, stroking them with his thumbs. His whole body was throbbing with the same crackling energy as the fireworks.

“God, I love you,” he said. “I adore you. I worship you.”

Abby sighed and moaned and whispered his words back to him. “You’re everything,” she added.

“Marry me,” Kane whispered, his lips still pressed to hers, the words coming out without any thought or planning, but he knew as he said them that this was what the feeling had been about, the butterflies in his gut, the electricity in his body.

Abby took a deep breath that nearly sucked the air out of Kane’s lungs as well. She put her hands on his heaving chest, creating a space between them. “What?” she said.

“Marry me. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“I... Marcus, is this wise?” Her eyes were deep pools with the light from the lanterns reflected in them. He couldn’t see down to their depths, and suddenly he wasn’t sure of her feelings, that she would say yes. His stomach flipped.

“No,” he said, shaking his head and smiling for all he was worth. “No, it’s not wise at all, but so what? I love you. You love me. We want to be together. This is it for us.”

Abby looked at him, her mouth opening, her breath hitching. She let out a sigh that was almost like a sob, and Kane stood looking back at her, wondering if he’d made a huge mistake, if it was too soon, which yes it was, and too unexpected, which yes it also was.

“This is it for me too,” she said, and he relaxed a little.

Kane nodded. He stroked her hair softly. “So, will you marry me?”

Abby smiled and nodded, tears forming in her eyes and spilling over onto her long lashes. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

Kane let out a huge sigh of relief, then he held her face again and kissed her. “I love you. I’ll love you forever.”

“Always,” she said.

He put his arm around her shoulder, and she put hers around his waist, and they continued walking towards their home. “I don’t have a ring,” Kane said. “I didn’t know I was going to ask you until I did.”

Abby laughed softly. “Plenty of time to get a ring. We can choose together.”

“Okay.” They approached the gate to Cottonwood Place. Kane knew his mother and possibly Raven were still upstairs, looking after Clarke, waiting for them to come home. “Let’s keep this to ourselves for now,” he said. “I want to enjoy it without interference from anyone else.”

“I completely agree,” said Abby. “Maybe we don’t tell them at all. Maybe we find a ring and I’ll start to wear it and we’ll see how long it is before anyone notices.”

“I love that idea.”

They were laughing together as they entered the building and made their way slowly up the stairs and home.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Clarke have fun together, and Abby faces her first day in court

Abby was working in Marcus’s study, preparing for the start of the court case the following day, when she heard a loud clatter and a high-pitched scream. She jumped up, ran towards the noise which seemed to come from the kitchen. When she burst into the room she was confronted by Marcus and Clarke covered in a white substance and laughing.

“What on earth?” Abby said as she surveyed the devastation.

Clarke was standing on a chair in front of the countertop, and Marcus was putting a dented metal bowl on the surface. A packet of flour lay on its side, and there were other ingredients scattered across the counter. Marcus brushed flour off his t-shirt and then patted Clarke down. Fine particles rose into the air and Marcus and Clarke both sneezed.

“Choo!” said Clarke, laughing again.

“Oops,” said Marcus. “We’ve been caught.” He grinned at Abby.

“What are you doing?” Abby smiled because Marcus’s grin was infectious.

“Makin’ pies, mama,” said Clarke as she licked flour from her finger and then grimaced.

“Making pies? What?” Abby shook her head in bemusement.

“I think she means making a surprise. We’re making you a special dinner, which was supposed to be a surprise, but as you can see, there was an incident.” Marcus picked up a cloth and started to clean the flour from the surface.

“I see,” said Abby, her whole body flooding with warmth at the gesture. “What are you making?”

“Peesa!” shouted Clarke, and she banged her hands on the counter, causing more flour to rise. Marcus moved in and wiped her hands and then the surface.

“Of course it’s pizza. I should have known.”

“Our favourite,” said Marcus, smiling warmly at her. “How’s the prep coming along?”

Abby sighed and shrugged. “I’m at the stage where I’m just going over and over the same ground and it’s all starting to blur.”

“Then you need a break.” Marcus went to the fridge, opened a bottle and poured Abby a large glass. “Have a glass of the finest grape juice and go and relax.”

Abby took the drink from him. “I’d rather sit and watch you two. I have a feeling it’s going to be entertaining.”

Marcus turned to Clarke. “Shall we let mommy watch us make magic, Clarke?”

“Okay,” said Clarke, who didn’t seem bothered one way or the other.

“I can’t wait to see this,” said Abby. “Or to taste it.”

“Have you noticed her apron?” said Marcus as he added flour to the bowl.

Abby looked at her daughter. She was wearing an olive-green apron with _Daddy’s Little Helper_ printed on it. “Oh, it’s adorable! Where did you get that?”

“At the festival. They were selling them at one of the food stands. I couldn’t resist.”

Abby sat back and watched as Marcus gave Clarke a jug of water and olive oil, which she splashed into the bowl. Who would have thought the stiff man in the coffee shop who’d called her The Child, would turn out to be such a wonderful father? Tears came unbidden to Abby’s eyes, and she blinked them away.

“Get your hands in,” he said, and he watched proudly as Clarke bashed the mixture and pulled it every which way. “Perfect.” He floured the surface then helped Clarke turn the bowl upside down so the dough flopped out. Clarke clapped her sticky hands with glee, then showed them to Marcus.

“Sticky!” she said, then she stuck one of the fingers in her mouth and licked off some of the dough, before putting her tongue out in disgust and trying to spit it back out.

“Not nice, huh?” said Marcus, smiling. “We need to bash it hard, now.” He thumped the dough and then Clarke started hitting it with her small fists and anything else close to hand. Abby couldn’t see how this was ever going to turn into something edible.

When the dough had rested and they’d cleaned themselves up, Marcus rolled it out and then he handed a bowl of something to Clarke.

“Here’s one I made earlier,” he said to Abby. “Turn it upside down,” he said to Clarke and he helped her upend the bowl. Red sauce slewed out all over the pizza base. He gave Clarke a plastic spoon and she hit the sauce rather than spreading it around. Droplets of red splashed over Clarke and Marcus, and sauce was everywhere except for on the pizza.

“It looks like a murder scene,” said Abby, and Marcus laughed.

“I think we can rescue some of the sauce.” He scooped it up and put it back on the pizza, spreading it around with the spoon. “Now for the best bit.” He gave Clarke another bowl and she dropped its contents on top of the sauce. It was grated cheese and Clarke wasted no time putting her hands in it and pulling some out which went immediately into her mouth.

“Cheese!” she said, happily. “Yummy.”

“That’s my girl,” said Marcus.

Clarke squashed the cheese onto the pizza, causing the sauce to ooze out again. She brought her cheese and tomato covered hand to her mouth and ate some of the mixture, then showed her hand to Marcus.

“Eat, daddy,” she said.

Abby was interested to see what he’d do. Last time Clarke had given him something she’d licked he’d been reluctant to even touch it never mind eat it. Abby was used to finishing off Clarke’s partially eaten meals, but this was still new to Marcus.

He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, taking a small amount of the cheese mixture and eating it. “Mmm. Yummy,” he said.

“Cheese is nice,” said Clarke.

“It is. It’s my favourite food.” He glanced at Abby and she smiled back at him. “Okay, I think we need to give it a face now. What kind of face do you think mommy would like?”

Clarke looked at Abby and pulled a face while she thought. “A bear.”

“A bear face? Oh. Well, we’ll see what we can do.” Marcus went to the fridge and took out a plate with veggies he’d already prepared. “Why don’t you make a bear face for mommy, then?”

Clarke picked up zucchini slices. “Eyes,” she said, putting them close together in the centre of the pizza so the bear looked cross-eyed. She stuck a cherry tomato at the bottom of the pizza.

“What’s that?” said Marcus.

Clarke pointed a sticky finger at his nose, leaving a smudge of tomato on it.

“Oh, a nose. I think that should be higher up his face.” Marcus moved the tomato, but Clarke put her hand out and grabbed it from him.

“No!” she said, then she ate it, and got another one, putting it back in its original position. Then she got more and soon the pizza was covered in tomato noses.

“He’s a very nosey bear,” said Marcus, laughing.

Clarke wasn’t amused. She picked off more of the tomatoes and popped them into her mouth.

“Is there going to be any of this pizza left for us?” said Abby.

“Not at this rate,” replied Marcus. “Shall we give him some teeth?” He started to line up sweetcorn beneath one of the bear’s noses, but Clarke was having none of it, and tipped the whole lot over the pizza, before picking some off and eating them.

“Well!” said Marcus, standing back to look at their creation. “I think that looks amazing.” His voice had a tremor to it as he tried to hold his laughter in.

Clarke beamed up at him. “Bear peesa, daddy.”

“Yes, bear pizza for mommy.”

“Joy peesa, mommy,” said Clarke and she tried to lift the pizza to give it to Abby.

“We need to bake it first, angel,” said Marcus. “Why don’t you and mommy go and get cleaned up and I’ll put it in the oven.”

Abby got up and went around the counter. The kitchen had been devastated by their cooking, with sauce and cheese everywhere. She picked up Clarke who was covered in more of the ingredients than had gone onto the pizza. “Did you enjoy that, baby?”

“Yes. Eat, pease.”

“When it’s ready. Let’s go and get washed up.” Abby reached up and kissed Marcus as she passed him. “You’re amazing,” she said, and she smiled as she carried her daughter to the bathroom. It wasn’t until she was dressing her again that she realised Clarke had called her mommy for the first time. Abby cuddled Clarke to her. “I love you, baby,” she said.

“Love you, mommy.”

“Aww.” Abby kissed her, then returned to the kitchen. Marcus had cleaned up and was putting a salad together.

“Why don’t you girls take a seat. Dinner won’t be long.”

“I can’t wait.” Abby settled Clarke into her highchair. She looked at her watch. Six o’clock. Twenty-four hours from now the first day of the court case would be over. She had no idea what to really expect. Russell, her lawyer, had said it would be mainly the presentation of evidence, and that Abby was unlikely to be called to speak until the following day. She felt sick when she thought about it. It had been a long time coming, and now that it was nearly here she was nervous, didn’t want to mess it up, betray Jake’s memory.

“Here we go!” said Marcus, and he brought in a large plate with the pizza, and a bowl of salad.

“Peesa!” said Clarke, clapping her hands.

“Looks fantastic,” said Abby, and in fact the pizza looked a lot better than she’d thought it would given the state it had been in when she’d left the kitchen.

“Doesn’t it look great,” said Marcus with a grin.

“I think we need to take a photo,” she said, and she took out her phone and snapped the pizza. “I can’t wait to eat it, baby.”

Marcus cut the pizza into slices and Abby took her share and helped herself to the salad. She cut Clarke’s slice into smaller pieces and watched as her daughter stuck her tongue out in anticipation as she moved a piece to her mouth.

“Yummy!” she said.

Abby looked at her slices of pizza, with the uneven topping, the heap of sweetcorn and the couple of cherry tomatoes Clarke hadn’t eaten. Tears welled and spilled down her cheeks.

“Hey,” said Marcus, and he reached across the table. “It’s not that bad.”

Abby laughed through her tears. She took his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just so lovely. I’m so happy.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded and squeezed her hand, and they sat like that, eating their pizza and salad one-handed.

When Abby had put Clarke to bed, she joined Marcus on the sofa. He still had flour in his hair, and a tomato sauce stain on the end of his nose. Abby was tempted to lick her thumb and wipe it off him like she would to Clarke, but he looked too adorable, so she didn’t mention it. He held his arm out to her and she cuddled into him.

“You’re emotional today,” he said softly.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Abby put her arms around him, pressed her ear to his chest and listened to the beating of his heart.

“You’re going to be amazing. You got this.” He kissed her head, stroked her hair.

“I don’t want to let Jake down.” Abby sobbed again, and Marcus held her closer.

“You’ve already done him proud getting this far.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” Abby let a few more tears fall, then she sat up, wiped her face, blew her snotty nose. “I’ve never seen Clarke as happy as she was today.”

“It was a lot of fun. I enjoyed it.”

“I could tell. Thank you for doing that with her.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not a chore or a favour. I love her. I want to spend time with her.”

“Ah, God,” said Abby as more tears appeared. “I feel hormonal for some reason. I can’t control myself.” She laughed and sobbed at the same time.

Marcus swung his legs onto the sofa and pulled Abby into his arms so they were lying together. “Let it all out,” he said, and he held her until she had no tears left to cry.

\---

The first day of the court case turned out to be mainly procedural as Russell had said. Abby sat next to her lawyer and listened while the physical evidence was presented. She glanced over at Callie a few times but her former friend didn’t look back. Callie looked so small and vulnerable hunched over the table making notes. Her black suit and black hair made her face look pale; her eyes huge. She would be a sympathetic witness.

Abby on the other hand had gained some weight since the last time she’d appeared in court. She was happy, and she knew from examining herself closely in the mirror that morning that it showed. Her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled. She was a far cry from the woman who’d shown up at the inquest eighteen months before, thin and frail, unable to walk unaided. She’d started to move on with her life, whereas it looked as though Callie had stood still. She didn’t know if it would matter to the judge, worried that it might.

She turned around in her chair to look at the back of the room, half expecting Marcus to be there even though she’d banned him from attending. They’d argued briefly about it that morning; their first argument. He’d wanted to support her, but Abby was worried him being there would send the wrong message, make her look bad to be fighting for her husband while her lover looked on. He hadn’t agreed but it was her decision and he’d respected it.

At five o’clock the case was adjourned for the day. Callie walked past Abby without looking at her.

“You’ll be on the stand tomorrow,” said Russell. “Are you prepared?”

“Yes, as I’ll ever be.”

“You’ll be fine. Just stick to the facts. The truth is on your side.” He patted her arm and then picked up his papers and left. Abby followed him.

She stepped out of the courthouse into a cold, grey April afternoon. She pulled out her phone to call Marcus.

“Hi. It’s me.”

“Hi me.” She could hear his smile in his voice. “Are you done for the day?”

“Yes. It was just evidence. Tomorrow is the big one.”

“Clarke and I are in Pizzeria Lola. Come and join us.”

Abby walked quickly to the restaurant, trying to warm herself up. She pushed open the door and looked to where they’d sat when they first came to the restaurant months ago. Marcus was sitting at that table with Clarke in the highchair. They had their heads bent together over a colouring book. One dark head, one blonde. Abby suspected Clarke would get teased when she was older about how she looked nothing like her parents.

“What are you two up to?” she said, and Clarke and Marcus both looked up.

“Coring, mommy,” said Clarke, and she bent her head to scribble again.

“Colouring? That’s nice, baby.” Abby pulled out a chair and sat down. Her shoulders drooped and she let out a heavy sigh.

“Was it a bad day?” said Marcus.

“Just tiring, stressful. I’d rather have given my evidence today. Now I have to go through it all again tomorrow.”

“You know you’re prepared. Try and switch off tonight.” Marcus reached across and took her hand. “What do you want to eat?”

“Peesa!” shouted Clarke.

“You had pizza last night, sweetheart. Pasta today.”

Clarke pulled an unimpressed face, which Marcus ignored.

Abby glanced at the menu. She didn’t feel very hungry. “You choose,” she said to Marcus.

“We’ll share salmon farfalle then and a salad. It’s the healthiest thing they have.”

“Okay.” Abby watched Clarke as she dragged her crayon across the paper. Marcus had coloured the cartoon in neatly and Clarke’s contribution was to cover it in red and black.

“It was hard in there on my own today,” said Abby when Marcus returned. “I’ve done it alone for nearly two years, but I missed you.”

“You didn’t have support before, but you do now.”

“Maybe you should come tomorrow, if you want. You’re right; it’s not going to do any harm. We’re talking about the past, not the present.”

“Of course I want to come. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I want you there,” she said.

“Then I’ll be there.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Kane face testing times

Kane sat at the back of the court room and watched as Abby took her seat at the front next to her lawyer. She sat with her back straight, her head held high. Her hair was twisted into a neat braid which lay over one shoulder. God, he loved her. He’d known from the moment he’d found out about the accident all those months ago that she was remarkable, resilient, indomitable, but seeing her in action, her resolve holding despite her inner turmoil, was breath-taking and filled him with pride.

The wife of the man killed alongside Jake was sitting at the other table. A small, dark-haired woman with black sorrowful eyes and a pale, pinched face. She’d glanced at Kane as she walked in, her eyes sweeping over him and his fellow spectators, and he’d felt sorry for her. She’d been through the same experience as Abby, and they could have comforted each other instead of ending up enemies across a courtroom. Abby had tried, he knew that, but whereas she had channelled her grief into her love for Clarke, Callie had turned it inward, become bitter. Kane could understand that, because he’d been heading in that direction too before he’d met Abby.

The judge entered and proceedings began. Abby’s lawyer made his opening remarks and she was called to the witness stand. She stood, walked confidently over to the seat and sat, smoothing down her new black suit. She looked at Kane, and he nodded and smiled his encouragement.

“You got this,” he mouthed. She gave a slight nod in return.

Kane’s own stomach was in knots and he could only imagine how Abby was feeling. They were just over a week away from the second anniversary of the accident and now she was going to have to relive it in front of all these people. She hadn’t even told Kane all the details; just the bare bones and those had been bad enough to listen to.

Russell, Abby’s lawyer, stood and moved in front of the table. Kane couldn’t see his face but he must have smiled at Abby because she smiled back at him.

“Can you state your name, age and occupation for the court, please,” he said in a soft voice.

“My name is Abigail Griffin. I’m thirty-six years old and I’m a teacher.”

When she’d discussed this with Russell, Abby had decided not to state she was an author because she wasn’t published, and they were concerned it might make her sound wealthier than she was. Russell was keen to ensure that the judge knew the impact this case had had on Abby. Kane didn’t think it should matter, but he could see why it might.

“On the night in question, the 24th April, you were thirty-four years old and pregnant with your daughter, Clarke, is that right?”

“Yes. I was forty-two weeks at the time.”

“So you were overdue then?”

“Yes. I was booked into see my OBGYN a couple of days later to arrange to be induced, which I didn’t want, so we’d been doing everything we could to bring on the labour.” She laughed softly when she said this, and Kane’s heart went out to her. “We were excited to meet our daughter,” Abby continued.

“Your husband, Jacob Griffin, was a newspaper journalist?”

“Jake worked for the Arkadia Times as feature writer and sub-editor.”

“A popular man by all accounts.”

Abby nodded and smiled. “Yes. He’d grown up in this town and was well known and liked by everyone I think. I was told they couldn’t fit everybody into the church for his funeral.”

“You didn’t go to his funeral?”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t leave the hospital for three months after the accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll come back to that time later.” Russell put his hand on Abby’s where it rested on the wood of the witness box. “How long were you and Jake together?”

“We were married ten years, but we’d been together since we were fourteen, so twenty altogether. He was my first love.”

“That’s a long time,” said Russell. “You knew him well.”

“I knew everything about him,” said Abby, and she looked down at her lap before looking up again, her eyes bright with tears.

“I know this is hard, Abby,” said Russell.

“No, it’s fine. I want to do this.”

Kane wanted to go over there and take her into his arms and hold her, or better yet spirit her away from all of this, so she didn’t have to face it. Twenty years she’d been with Jake. He’d known they’d been together a long time, that Jake was her first, her one and only until Kane came along, but hearing it aloud like this, the easy affection in her voice, seeing her face as she spoke about him, her soft smile, it brought home to Kane just what they’d had together, and what she’d lost. His love and admiration for her knew no bounds. She was so strong, so much stronger than him. He’d have been swallowed up by everything she’d been through long ago.  

“We will hear more about Jake’s character later when we see the video testimony of his mother,” said Russell, “but is it fair to say that Jake was an honest man, someone who followed the law, who’d never been in trouble in his life?”

“Jake was honest and straightforward. He was uncomplicated in some ways, saw everything in black and white. Things were either right or they were wrong. It could cause some problems sometimes.” Abby smiled ruefully.

“What do you mean?”

“Just that he could be crusading. If he sensed injustice he would chase after it, find the facts, make sure the truth was known. That’s why he was a great journalist. He believed in the truth.”

“So he is not someone who would intentionally break the law?”

Abby shook her head. “No, definitely not.”

“And you’ve never been in trouble with the law yourself? You don’t have any criminal convictions?”

“No. I’ve lived a fairly boring life.” She smiled shyly at the judge, who looked across at her unmoved.

“And yet on the night of the accident, as was established by the forensic evidence we heard yesterday, he was driving your car along Highway 169 and he was exceeding the speed limit. Is that correct?”

Kane could see Abby swallow hard. She put one hand on top of the other which she did when she wanted to stop herself fidgeting. “That is correct, yes.”

“Why was he doing that?”

“I didn’t realise he was at the time. I was surprised they said that because it didn’t feel like it at the time.”

The opposition lawyer stood and leaned on his desk. “Objection, Your Honour. Is the witness disputing the facts that are in evidence?”

“I’m not disputing it,” said Abby, her face warm as she turned to look at Callie’s lawyer. “I’m just saying I was surprised to learn it.”

“Please stick to the facts as you know them, Mrs Griffin,” said the judge.

“Yes. Of course.” Abby looked across at Kane who smiled and nodded, trying to give her some confidence. Abby took a deep breath. “I was in labour, that’s why he was exceeding the speed limit. I’d had contractions throughout the day but the hospital said I didn’t need to come in until they were five minutes apart. We got in the car, but we hadn’t gone far when the pain became unbearable, and the contractions were coming so fast. I thought I was going to give birth on the side of the road. It was so dark, and there was snow on the ground, and I was scared. The baby had been in the breech position and I knew it could be dangerous to give birth like that, especially with no help. Jake was so worried, and all we could think about was getting to the hospital. I guess he put his foot down more than he should. I wished we’d stopped,” she said, her voice cracking, tears flowing down her face. “I wish that more than anything. I...”

“That’s okay, Abby,” said Russell, putting his hand on hers. Kane thought it was to stop her saying anything more that might sound like an admission of guilt. “May I request a brief recess, Your Honour?”

The judge nodded and Abby returned to the table. She turned and looked at Kane. He moved seats so he was sitting behind her. He wanted so badly to touch her, but they’d agreed not to show any displays of affection in the courtroom.

“You’re doing such a great job, Abby,” Kane said, smiling softly at her.

“I nearly gave it away. I nearly said it was Jake’s fault.”

“No, no you didn’t. You said you wished you’d stopped so the accident wouldn’t have happened, that’s all. That’s natural.”

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. Kane gave her his handkerchief and she blew her nose on it. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re amazing. You’re so strong.”

She nodded, scrunched her face up to prevent further tears from falling. “Stay here,” she said. “I can hardly see you back there.”

“Okay. I will. I’m here for you.”

“The court is in session,” said the usher as the judge returned, and Abby retook her place in the witness box.

Russell stood in front of Abby, one hand on the wooden rail. He smiled gently at her. “Now, Abby, I’m sorry to do this, but I need to take you through the accident itself.”

“Yes, okay.”

“Jake was driving along Highway 169. It was eight o’clock at night, dark and snowing, is that correct?”

“That’s right.”

“You were in labour and you still had half an hour’s driving to get to Saint Croy.”

“Yes.”

“When did you first become aware of the other vehicle?”

“Just seconds before the crash. We rounded a corner and I was blinded by bright lights, which were the headlights of a car. It was confusing because it seemed to be in front of us but it should have been on the other side of the road. I didn’t have much time to think. The lights flooded the whole car, so bright it hurt my eyes, and Jake cried out, and then I remember hearing the crash rather than feeling it. It was a huge bang and the sound of metal twisting – like a screeching sound – and I don’t remember anything after that.”

“What’s the next thing you remember?”

“I woke up and I didn’t know where I was, but it was bright again. I thought I was still where the lights were, on the road. It felt like it was just a few seconds later. I turned to look for Jake, and I could see that I was in a hospital room, and there was a bassinet next to me with a baby inside it. I thought I was dreaming. I tried to get up but I had tubes and things in me and I couldn’t move. A dreadful pain washed over me then and I cried out, and that’s when a nurse came into the room. She told me what had happened, that Jake was dead, and I had a baby girl.”

Abby’s voice grew higher in pitch as she spoke, sobs puncturing her words.

“Take your time,” said Russell.

“He was dead,” Abby sobbed. “He was never going to see our baby, never know our daughter, and she would never know him. That had all been taken away from him, from us.”

“Your Honour,” said the opposing lawyer.

“Pipe down, Mr Locke,” replied the judge, holding up his hand.

“What injuries did you sustain in the crash, Abby?” said Russell.

Abby wiped her eyes and sniffed. She took out Kane’s handkerchief and blew her nose again. “I sustained fractures to vertebrae in my spine, and my ribs, and I couldn’t walk for three months. I also suffered abdominal injuries caused by the metal and glass including a ruptured spleen, damage to my pelvis, pancreas and liver. I had a caesarean section to deliver Clarke, although I don’t remember it, and I will never be able to give birth naturally.”

She glanced at Kane when she said this, and he tried to keep his face straight but inside he felt like he was being torn apart. She’d never detailed her injuries to him so clearly before. He’d asked her if she wanted another child so casually, never imagining that the trauma she’d mentioned was this great.

“I can’t stand for long periods of time, or short ones really, and I have post traumatic stress disorder, particularly about driving in cars which I’m unable to do, and have suffered depression, stress and anxiety as a result of the accident and its aftermath.”

“And yet despite suffering these consequences, the death of your husband, the traumatic birth of your daughter, the injuries that so badly affected you and continue to do so to this day, it never occurred to you to place blame on the plaintiff’s husband, the driver of the other car. You chose not to sue his estate when you had every right to do so?”

“Objection, Your Honour!”

“Withdrawn,” said Russell, before the judge could rule.

“It was an accident,” said Abby softly, and she looked across to Callie’s table. Kane followed her gaze. The woman stared back at Abby, her eyes hard, her jaw set firmly.

“I have nothing further, Your Honour,” said Russell, and he squeezed Abby’s hand before returning to his table.

“Would you like a break before we do the cross examination, Mrs Griffin?” said the judge, his face softer when he looked at Abby than it had been when the day started.

“No, I’d like to get on with it, please.”

“Very well. Mr Locke. You’re up.”

Locke stood in front of Abby. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Mrs Griffin, and for everything you’ve been through as a result.”

“Thank you,” said Abby.

“You said your husband was a crusader, someone who would chase after facts. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Would you say he could be hot-headed, impulsive?”

“I wouldn’t say he was hot-headed, no.”

“But he was impulsive then?”

Abby frowned. “He... sometimes, yes, but then we all...”

“Thank you, Mrs Griffin. Is it true to say that Jake Griffin could be ruthless in his pursuit of the truth as you call it?”

Abby looked confused at the question. “I... I wouldn’t call him ruthless, no.”

“But he would do what it took to get a story?”

“That was his job.”

“Yes, but it takes a certain kind of person to be a journalist, do you see what I’m getting at?”

“No, I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“Objection, Your Honour. Mr Locke is badgering the witness.”

“Sustained. Please stick to questions, Mr Locke.”

“Jake Griffin was crusading, dogged, impulsive and ruthless in his pursuit of a story, I think we’ve established that.”

“We haven’t...”

“Would you say you knew him well, Mrs Griffin?”

“Of course. He was my husband.”

“And he in turn knew you well?”

Abby looked at Russell and then at Kane. She seemed confused as to where this questioning was going and Kane felt the same. There was an atmosphere in the courtroom, a hostile one, created by Locke, and Kane felt a growing disquiet as to the intentions of Callie’s lawyer.

“Yes. We knew each other inside out. We’d been together twenty years.” Abby sat up straighter, gripped the rail of the witness box so tightly her knuckles were white.

“You had no secrets from each other?”

Russell stood, waved his hands in the air in a gesture of despair. “Where is this line of questioning going, Your Honour?”

“You will see,” said Locke. “Please answer my question, Mrs Griffin. You and your husband, Jake Griffin, had no secrets from each other?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no.” Abby narrowed her eyes at Locke.

“So, he was unaware that you’d been having an affair for the last year of your marriage?”

There was a collective gasp of shock in the courtroom, which Kane contributed to. He sat open-mouthed as Locke’s words sank in. He’d accused Abby of having an affair? Why?

“What?” said Abby, whose face had drained of colour.

“Did your husband know you were having an affair?” Locke punctuated each word clearly, accusing Abby.

“I wasn’t having an affair,” said Abby incredulously. “Why are you saying that?”

“Objection, Your Honour,” said Russell. “Mr Locke can have no proof of an affair or any wrongdoing by Mrs Griffin at the time of the accident.”

“I have proof,” said Locke. “I have a written statement by the wife of the man Mrs Griffin was having the affair with.” He looked around the courtroom, his eyes alighting on Kane, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

Abby’s intake of breath was audible to the entire courtroom, and all eyes turned to her. Kane knew why she’d taken that breath, because she’d realised at the same time he had who was behind this. Rebecca. Her gasp didn’t look good to the judge or anyone else, though; it looked like an admission of guilt.

“Was your husband aware that the child he was so desperately trying to save might not be his?”

“Clarke is his,” cried Abby. “I wasn’t having an affair. I’ve never had an affair. I loved Jake. I always will.”

“You love him? I see. Do you deny then, that you are in a relationship with this man, Marcus Kane?” He pointed at Kane and all eyes turned to him and his skin warmed and he knew his ears had turned pink. What was happening? What had Rebecca done? He wanted to look at Abby but he didn’t dare. He stared at Locke, completely at a loss as to what to do for the best.

“I am in a relationship with him, yes,” said Abby quietly.

“You live together here in Arkadia Falls. He is the father of your child, Clarke.”

“No. I mean, yes we live together, but no, he’s not...”

“She calls him daddy. I have multiple witnesses who can attest to that.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean...”

“Mr Kane was in a relationship at the time your affair began.”

“No, he was divorced, and it wasn’t...”

“I put it to you that he was as good as married, as were you, and that you were having a sexual relationship, one that led to a pregnancy, and that you concealed from your husband the fact that Mr Kane could be the father of the baby.”

“No, that’s not true. I didn’t know Marcus then.”

“I have sworn statements from Mr Kane’s ex-wife, Rebecca King, detailing your affair.”

“You can’t have! She’s lying.”

“Why would she lie, Mrs Griffin? What would she have to gain?”

“She’s manipulative. She doesn’t want Marcus to be happy.”

“I would imagine she wouldn’t want the man she loved and trusted to be happy with the woman he destroyed their marriage for.”

“That’s!” Abby turned to look at the judge. “None of this is true. How can he say these things?”

Kane’s fear had turned to anger, an anger so great it was threatening to erupt into a rage. He wanted to tear through the courtroom, grab Callie and her lawyer and force them to tell the truth, to admit that this was all a ploy for them to win a case they had no hope of winning, and for Rebecca to destroy Kane once again.

“She’s lying!” Kane shouted, causing another gasp and another turn of heads. “My ex-wife, Rebecca. She’s lying. She’s the fraud. She’s the cheat!”

“That’s enough!” said the judge. “Sit down or I will hold you in contempt of this court.”

Kane didn’t move until Russell pulled him down. He looked at Abby, who looked at him, tears streaming down her face.

“I put it to you, Mrs Griffin,” said Locke in a loud, accusatory voice, “that you were arguing with your husband in the car that night. That Jake knew he wasn’t the father of your baby, that he was angry and upset and THAT’S why he was speeding.”

“No!”

“Your Honour, Mr Locke is plucking accusations out of thin air. We are getting away from the facts of this case which is that Jason Cartwig caused this crash by speeding and driving on the wrong side of the road. What do these wild accusations have to do with that? Where is the proof of any of this?” Russell banged on the table in frustration.

“These facts are integral to this case,” said Locke. “They show that there is an alternative reason for the crash, that Mr Griffin was distracted, and that he may have driven in such a manner as to cause Mr Cartwig to swerve into their path. And I have proof. I have the statements from Ms King, as I said, and other witnesses.”

“What about the child, Mr Locke?” said the judge. “Where is the proof regarding her?”

“We have been unable to obtain a DNA test, Your Honour. If you would grant our request, then we can...”

“Very well,” said the judge. “Mrs Griffin, you will submit yourself and your daughter for a DNA test in the presence of both parties.”

“Your Honour, I strongly object to this course of action. It has no bearing on this case, despite Mr Locke’s outrageous attempts to make it so.”

“Mr Locke is within his rights to introduce an alternative explanation for the accident, as you well know, Mr Russell.”

“Then we need time to refute these accusations, which have come out of the blue and which are wholly unfounded, Your Honour.”

“Very well. We will reconvene in two weeks whereby I expect both of you to have your evidence prepared.”

\---

Abby remained seated in the witness box after the judge had left. Time seemed to have slowed and become fluid. People were moving around her, leaving the courtroom, talking to each other but it was in slow motion, their voices slurred and muffled, their steps unhurried. The pulse of her heart was the loudest thing in the room, slow like her breaths. The air was heavy and wasn’t reaching her lungs. She was dying. If she stopped breathing altogether that would be it. The room would fade to black, and it would all end. She held her breath.

A shape appeared in front of her, dark against the bright lights of the room. She was enveloped in strong arms, pressed against warm flesh, lifted to her feet. She hung there limply.

“Abby!” said Marcus, his voice breaking. “Abby, I’m so sorry.”

He held her tightly to him, and she took a breath, gasping for air, a keening sound filling her ears that she realised was coming from her.

“Shush, shush,” whispered Marcus, his breath tickling her ear. His hand was on the back of her head, stroking her hair. “This is all my fault,” he said.

Abby let out another long cry, sagged into him further. Her brain was fogged with grief, and she could barely take in what had happened.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she croaked.

Marcus kissed her forehead, pressed his cheek against hers. Her skin grew damp with his tears. “I’m sorry,” he said. He took a deep breath. “We need to get you out of here.”

He put his arm around her shoulder, and Abby was forced to put her weight on her feet. She stumbled alongside him, her head buried against his chest, and they pushed through the main doors, out into the spring air. Marcus led her round the side of the courthouse, stood her against the wall. Abby watched as Russell appeared and handed her coat to Marcus. The two men talked for a moment and then Marcus returned to Abby.

“Let’s get this on you,” he said. He dressed her like he did Clarke, one arm at a time, and Abby stood impassively while he did it. She felt weak, listless. What was the point of anything? She’d fought, and fought, and it had all been taken away. Why had she even bothered? It was hopeless, had been from the start.

Marcus fastened up her coat and then stood with his fingers wrapped around the last button. “Abby,” he said, softly. “Look at me.”

Abby sighed, and raised her eyes slowly to his. It was an effort, because her eyeballs were heavy; in fact her whole body was heavy, like she was being weighed down, a flower pressed between the pages of a book, being drained of its essence until it was a dried up husk of its former self. Pretty to look at, but pointless.

“You can do this. We have to fight,” said Marcus, his hand moving to her chin to hold her in place, as though he knew she would sink otherwise.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice low, defeated.

“You can. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but we can get through this.”

Abby laughed bitterly. “Can’t you see?” she said, shaking her head at his naivety. “They’ve won.”

“Like hell they have,” said Marcus. “We’re not giving up. YOU’RE not giving up. I won’t let you.”

“There’s no point,” she said, and she stood straighter, stepped back so he had to drop his hands from where they were still gripping her coat. She had made up her mind and wasn’t going to let him persuade her otherwise.

Marcus looked at her, and she stared back, seeing him properly for the first time since the courtroom. His face was pale, his eyes red rimmed, his thin lips turned inward as he worried them and contemplated her. He was so distressed, blaming himself. Abby’s resolve started to slip, and she let out a huffy breath to steel herself again.

Russell appeared around the corner pushing Clarke in her stroller. He handed her over to Marcus, glanced at Abby, and then left. Marcus unfastened Clarke and held her in his arms.

“This is the point,” he said. “Your daughter.”

Emotion welled up in Abby and her face crumpled at the sight of her baby who looked so much like Jake. She sobbed, trying to be silent so she wouldn’t upset Clarke. A tear rolled down Marcus’s cheek and he held out his arm to Abby. She moved in, let him pull her close to him. She put her arm around Clarke, and they stood tightly together.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, I’ll fight.”

\---

“I guess we know why she went to see that family lawyer. Goddamn her!” Marcus was pacing the living room, his cell phone clutched tightly to his ear. “She wants to destroy me, mom, I told you that.”

Abby stood by the patio door, staring out at the black river. It was dark and cloudy and all she could really see was her reflection staring back at her. She was frowning, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her shoulders hunched forward. She took a deep breath, straightened.

They’d been back home a couple of hours and Marcus had been on the phone most of that time. Abby had fed Clarke and put her to bed early. Her mood had changed from defeated to something she couldn’t define. It wasn’t the fighting spirit Marcus wanted her to have; she couldn’t muster that. She didn’t feel angry like Marcus did, because that required energy, and she was spent. She felt numb, but she’d decided not to give up. That was the best she could do for now.

“What does Martin say?” said Marcus. He glanced at Abby as he passed her, and his eyes were flashing dark. She’d never seen him like this, bristling with anger and a nervous tension that made her worried he would explode at any moment, or worse yet, have another heart attack. She wanted to tell him to calm down, to slow down, but he was a man on a mission, and he wasn’t in the mood for listening. He blamed himself, and she was worried he wouldn’t rest until he’d put it right, however that was to be achieved.

“She’s in Minneapolis? Right, well, I’m coming down there.”

Abby was alarmed at his words. “Marcus!” she said, and he paused in his pacing, stared at her. “Who’s in Minneapolis?”

He nodded at her, as though that was some kind of answer, then moved away towards the kitchen. “No, I’ll stay in a hotel,” he was saying. “I’ll just be in and out.”

He was going to go and see Rebecca. Oh, this would not end well! Abby sat on the sofa while she waited for him to return. She picked up Clarke’s duck toy, stroked its fur, squeezed its soft belly. Why was all this happening to them?

Marcus returned, a determined look on his face.

“Who’s in Minneapolis, Marcus?” said Abby, even though she knew full well.

“Rebecca,” he said. “Martin said she’s at the Hilton. I need to pack a bag.” He marched towards their bedroom and Abby followed him.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said.

“It’s the best idea I’ve had in ages.” He pulled out socks and underwear, sweaters and jeans from his drawers, stuffed them into a black bag. “I should have confronted her months ago, and instead I ran away like the coward I am, and this is the result.” He moved into the bathroom, opened the cupboards, found his toiletries, his toothbrush, shoved them into the bag as well.

“You’re not going now!” said Abby as she realised what that meant.

“It’s best I make a head start, so I can be there first thing in the morning.”

“No,” said Abby, and she took the bag from him.

“Give me the bag, Abby,” he said, trying to take it from her. She put it behind her back.

“You’re not going now, Marcus.”

“You can’t stop me. This is my fault. I need to make it right.” He tried to take the bag again, but Abby held onto it.

“Not like this.”

“For God’s sake, Abby, give me the damned bag!” He glared at her, and Abby felt tears starting to well. This is what they were reduced to!

She flung the bag at him, then ran into the bedroom, closing the door to the living room and standing against it. Marcus followed her out, saw what she was doing, and sighed.

“I can move you easily,” he said.

“You would do that, would you?”

He stared at her, then he flung the bag onto the bed and put his hands on his head. “What do you want me to do?”

“Don’t go to Minneapolis. Not now, not like this.”

“I have to go and see her. I have to know what she wants. This could resolve it, Abby. If I know what she wants I can give it to her and then it will be over.”

Tears overwhelmed Abby and she stood against the door, letting them flow down her face, looking at Marcus, trying to will him not to go, although she knew this was a battle already lost. He had to do it, for himself, for her. He walked towards her, put a tentative hand out, wiped a tear with his thumb. “I have to go,” he said more gently.

Abby nodded. “Not tonight, though. Not while you’re so angry. Not in the dark. Please, Marcus.”

He took a deep breath and she saw realisation dawn on his face, saw that he understood her true fear.

“Of course, of course. Not tonight. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pulled her into his arms, and she let him.

“I can’t lose you,” she sobbed, and he tightened his grip.

“You won’t. I promise.”

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

Marcus stood back, held her at arm’s length. “You don’t hate me?”

His eyes were searching hers and Abby was alarmed to see this was a genuine question. “Why would I hate you?”

“This is happening because of me. If it weren’t for me you’d be winning this case, you wouldn’t have suffered like you did today. I’ve ruined everything.”

Abby put her hands on his cheeks. “None of this is your fault. It’s your ex-wife and my ex-friend. They have done this, not you. I would never blame you. Never!”

Marcus shook his head. “I can’t help feeling this way.”

“Marcus, you saved me. No matter what happens, I will never regret what we have.”

“You’ve saved me,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I’d be without you.”

“Let’s go to bed, try and sleep. Then you can leave in the morning when you’re rested.”

Abby returned his toothbrush and toiletries to the bathroom, and then undressed and got into bed next to Marcus. He rolled into her arms and she stroked his hair.

“I’ll always be with you,” she murmured. “No matter where you are.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane confronts Rebecca

Kane was five miles from Minneapolis when his phone rang. “Yes,” he said, not paying attention to who it was.

“Marcus, it’s your mother.”

“I’m not there yet, mom.”

“She’s not at the Hilton.”

“What?” He slowed so he could concentrate on his mother’s words. “Martin was wrong?”

“No, she was there, but she checked out this morning.”

Damnit! thought Marcus. If he’d left last night like he’d wanted to, he’d have caught her. “Fuck!” he said, ignoring Vera’s disapproving tut.

“Martin went to the Hilton this morning to make sure she was still there. She’d left a note,” said Vera.

“A note?”

“Yes. It was addressed to you, but Martin opened it.”

Kane’s heartrate shot through the roof. “What did it say?”

“It said ‘I’m waiting for you’. What does that mean, Marcus?”

“It means she knows I’m coming.” He hit the steering wheel in frustration. He could never get ahead of her; she was far too clever, was orchestrating the whole thing, even him, knowing what he’d do, where he’d go.

“Why didn’t she just stay there, then?”

“Because she wants to torture me.” An exit was approaching, and Kane changed lanes so he could take it.

“I don’t understand, son. How is she torturing you? Where is she?”

“She’s in the one place she knows I don’t want to go.” Kane took the exit and tried to control his racing heart as old familiar landmarks came into view. “I have to go, mom. I’ll call you later.”

He ended the call and took a deep breath. It was time to face up to all his demons.

A few minutes later he was on Summit Avenue, and he pulled up short of the house. He took out his cell phone, dialled Abby’s number.

“Marcus,” she said, relief in her voice.

“I’m here okay. She’s not at the Hilton. She’s at our old house in Saint Paul.”

“Oh, God. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes I’m...” he stopped mid-sentence. This wasn’t the time for lies. Not with Abby. He was done with that. “No, I’m not okay, but I want to do this. I need to do this.”

“I’m with you. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll call you before I leave.”

“Stay strong, Marcus.”

“I will. I’m channelling you,” he replied, before he ended the call. He got out of his car, breathed in the crisp air, the smell of the cherries that were starting to blossom. “Here goes nothing,” he said to himself.

He could see the realtor’s sign swaying in the breeze as he approached the house. He was tempted to pull it up, throw it at Rebecca’s bright red car which was parked in his driveway. This was going to end today, one way or another. He pulled his keys from his pocket, stood in front of the door. He started to sweat, his heartrate picking up, his chest tightening. He recognised the signs for what they were, though, and he took deep breaths, following the advice Abby had given him after he’d told her about his first panic attack. He closed his eyes briefly, pictured Abby and her scars, saw her loving smile when she looked at Clarke, looked at him, her straight back as she sat in the courtroom ready to face her worst nightmare. If she could do it, so could he.

He put the key in the lock, turned it and opened the door. The memories didn’t hit him as hard as he’d thought they would. They hadn’t lived here long, and he knew now that they’d never really made this a home, not in the true sense, not like he had with Abby and Clarke. The room felt cavernous and empty, with its double height ceiling and its huge windows. He shut the door behind him, crossed the wooden floor. Rebecca was sitting in the snug which was a raised platform in one corner of the room. She was flicking through a magazine.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist seeing me,” she said, and she put the magazine down, crossed her long legs, leant back in the chair. She was wearing a black and red patterned dress he’d bought her on their honeymoon in the Maldives, one that showed off her perfect breasts, gaped enough to give a glimpse of muscled thigh. Did she really think he was that shallow?

“You could have just called,” said Kane, walking towards her. “Would have been a lot easier.”

“Not as dramatic, though, I bet. Pity I missed the fireworks. I heard it was a good show.”

“This is low, even for you.”

“Insulting me is definitely the way to get what you want, Marcus.”

“Abby has nothing to do with any of this and you know it. She lost her husband, she nearly died! Why would you want to hurt her?”

“Are you really this naïve?” Rebecca uncrossed her legs slowly, pushed herself up from the chair. She walked towards Kane, stopped right in front of him. She leaned in so that her lips brushed his cheek. “It’s nothing to do with her; she’s just collateral damage. It’s you. You humiliated me,” she whispered into his ear.

Kane stepped back. “I humiliated you! Are you joking? You tried to take everything from me. Did you think I’d just roll over and let it happen?”

“Yes, to be honest. You were so eager to please, so desperate to get what you wanted, I thought you’d be a pushover. You did surprise me; I’ll give you that.”

“I loved you. I wanted a family with you. I wasn’t desperate.”

“Oh, you were, Marcus. You reeked of it, always did. You were desperate for ME.”

“You have a twisted view of what love is.” Kane moved away from her, went to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and remained standing behind the counter. Let Rebecca come to him if she wanted to continue this conversation.

She walked towards him, stood on the opposite side of the counter. “I suppose Abby knows what love is, does she? Knows how to treat you right? Does exactly what you want, kisses all your boo boos better like a good mommy.” She said Abby’s name like it was a foul taste in her mouth.

Kane chose to ignore her dig at Abby. He wasn’t going to talk about his relationship with her. “What do you want, Rebecca? How can I make this go away?”

“That’s very direct of you, Marcus.”

“I just want this to stop. I’m tired of it. Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you bored yet?”

Rebecca laughed. “You wish.” She leaned across the counter, stared into his eyes. “You humiliated me, you ruined my name, my reputation.”

“You did that all by yourself.”

“No, it was you.” She pointed a finger at him. “You told everyone what I did so the King name is mud in Minnesota now. We’re a laughingstock, thanks to you.”

“You’re the laughingstock? I’m the one who had to go to meetings and business functions with everyone looking at me and gossiping. There’s the man who was conned by his own wife. The man who couldn’t tell when someone was manipulating him. How can a man like that be trusted with our money? I had to BEG the shareholders not to withdraw their investments. I humiliated myself to save the business. The business that was entrusted to me and that YOU tried to ruin. I fail to see how any of what happened to you is my fault. This is down to YOU, you and your father.”

Rebecca crossed her arms and pouted. She used to do that when they were married, when she wanted something from him, and it had melted him, made him give in to her demands, and he’d never questioned it. He’d thought that was how relationships were. You gave the other person everything you had, pleased them, made them happy. He still believed that, despite everything, but now he knew it went both ways. Abby gave him everything she could as well, wanted to make him happy. Rebecca never had.

“It should have been you whose name was ruined, not me,” said Rebecca.

“Why do you hate me so much? I don’t understand it. I only ever loved you.”

“I didn’t hate you at the time; it was just business, and then you destroyed me.”

Kane rubbed his eyes. This was a pointless conversation. She was deluded, mentally ill even. She felt persecuted when everything that had happened had been through her choices. There was no reasoning with her, he could see that now. “What do I have to do to stop you hurting Abby anymore? I’ll do whatever you want.”

Rebecca leaned even further forward, whispered so Kane couldn’t hear what she said. He was forced to lean closer himself.

“What did you say?” he said.

“I want you to leave her.”

“What? Why?” This was the last thing Kane had thought she would say. He’d expected her to say she wanted the house, money, the business.

“Because she makes you happy, and I want you to be miserable. I want you to be miserable for the rest of your pathetic life, which judging from what I’ve heard recently won’t be a long one.”

“I’m not leaving her. There’s no way.”

“Then I’ll destroy her.” Rebecca took Kane’s glass of water and drank from it. She put it down on the counter and smiled at him, then she walked away, out of the back door and into the garden.

Kane stood at the counter; his hands flat on the surface. His mind was in turmoil. He had no doubt in his mind that Rebecca was serious, that she would follow through with her threat. How could he leave Abby and Clarke? It would break all their hearts. He couldn’t allow Abby’s name to be destroyed, though, let her lose everything she’d fought so hard for, and what else was Rebecca capable of? What might she do to destroy Abby?

He walked out into the garden. Rebecca was sitting in the arbour, swinging gently on the wooden seat.  “Is she pregnant yet?” she said.

That question came completely out of left field and left him flummoxed. “What?”

“Abby. She’s obviously fertile, but she’s no spring chicken from what I saw. I bet you’ve been thinking about getting her to pump out a brood of mini Marcus’s sooner rather than later, haven’t you? It was all you ever wanted, a version of you to take over the family business.”

“That’s not all I wanted.”

“Don’t kid yourself. I bet she wants to give you a baby, she’s that type of woman, a pleaser.”

“You know nothing about her.”

“I know everything about her. Everything.” She smiled sweetly at Kane and swung on the seat as though they were enjoying a sunny afternoon and all was well with the world, but the threat behind her words was unmistakable. “She has a book deal, doesn’t she? Some thriller set upstate on the river. I read it; thought it was derivative.”

Kane was shocked to hear she’d read Abby’s novel. The book deal was probably common knowledge, but her getting hold of a draft copy showed she still had influence in the book world. Could she influence the deal? Ruin Abby’s reputation as an author before it’s even started, or wait until she was published and then ruin her? God, the possibilities were endless. There had to be another way to solve this, and he didn’t have much time to think of it.

“Please leave Abby alone. She’s been through enough.”

“Sorry, can’t do.”

Kane sighed. “It doesn’t have to be this way, you know.”

“Doesn’t it? What way is it going to be then, Marcus?”

“I can restore your reputation, make a statement, tell everyone the stories in the papers were wrong, take the blame for the divorce myself.”

Rebecca laughed. “It’s way too late for that.”

Kane sighed. “Then I don’t see how hurting me or Abby helps you at all.”

“It makes me feel good; that’s how it helps. You’re such a smug bastard, you know. Always were. You could never understand why I didn’t date you all those years when you thought you were the best thing in Minneapolis. Why isn’t she going out with me? There’s no one better.” She laughed. “So it was easy to get you. Way too easy. Then you ran away with your tail between your legs when I humiliated you, and I was glad. You needed bringing low. Then what happens but I’m walking through MY city, and there you are, with her and that baby, making out in the middle of the street like two teenagers. It was disgusting. You looked up with a self-satisfied grin on your face and I wanted to kill you there and then. Would have, if it had been a quieter place. So you see, you’re getting what you deserve, and so am I.”

Kane grew increasingly despairing as he listened to her speech. He could be arrogant, he knew that. Hadn’t Abby called him out for his behaviour that day in Duluth? It was something he’d heard a lot but never done anything about until Abby. He’d never been mean with it, though. He wasn’t a rude person, not intentionally, at least he didn’t think so, and he’d loved Rebecca, gave her everything he thought she wanted. Her view of him seemed twisted, or else her words were designed to make him doubt himself. Maybe he would have if he didn’t have Abby. He had her love, and that wasn’t given easily to anyone. He’d earned it. He was a good man. This was all down to Rebecca.

He wanted to tell her she was ill, that she needed help, but that would only antagonise her further. She was never going to do the right thing, and if he didn’t do what she wanted, she was going to destroy Abby’s life. There was only one course of action he could take.

“Alright,” he said, sighing. “You win. I’ll leave her.”

Rebecca clapped her hands. “Really? Oh, this feels even better than I thought it would.”

“I’m thrilled you’re happy. Is that all?”

“No, it is not! I need proof. I want you away from her, back here in Minneapolis.”

Kane frowned. Why did she want him back here where they could bump into each other all the time? Was she jealous secretly? Was that at the heart of this? Surely not.

“I’d have thought that’s the last thing you’d want.”

“I need to keep an eye on you. If you’re up there then you could be carrying on with her secretly, thinking out of sight is out of mind. Well, it’s not.”

“You’ll leave her alone if I move back here? Withdraw your ridiculous statement about her affair with me?”

“I’d be delighted to have nothing more to do with her.” Rebecca twirled her hair, bored her blue eyes into his.

“And I’m to be alone the rest of my life. That’s what you want?”

“You can screw around I don’t care about that. But no love, no wife, no children.”

“I hope you find happiness someday. I really do.” Kane was done with all this, couldn’t stand to look at her a second longer, so he headed towards the garden gate.

“So I can have it taken away from me?” Rebecca swung her legs off the seat and stood.

“No. Just so you can be happy. So you can know how it feels.” Kane opened the gate and walked down the path. He went slowly at first, then hurried once he knew he was out of her sight. He got into his car and sat, his head in his hands, leaning against the steering wheel. He hadn’t anticipated any of what had just happened. He’d tried to hold himself together in front of her but her demands had been a complete shock, devastating. He took deep breaths, tried to slow his racing heart. How the hell was he going to do this? How was he going to break Abby’s heart?


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby deal with the aftermath of Rebecca's demands

Abby got out of bed reluctantly. It wasn’t that she wanted to stay there; not when the bed held so many memories, not when there was now a cold, empty side where once there was a warm loving body. She had no wish to lie here and think about what was missing. In fact, she tried to spend as little time as possible in the condo; it was too painful. No, she didn’t want to get up because today she had to go and get the results of the DNA test from the doctor. She knew what it would say, of course, because she’d only had one lover before Marcus, and Jake was the father of Clarke. She didn’t need a DNA test to tell her that. The courts did, though. Once the results were here they would be scrutinised by the lawyers and no doubt Callie’s side would construct an elaborate lie to explain away the truth. Then she’d have to go back to court, and she’d have to do it alone. For the thousandth time over the last few days she wished Marcus was here, despite everything. She missed him.

She could hear Clarke talking to herself over the baby monitor and knew she was awake. Her daughter was an early riser, like Abby. She padded to her bedroom and Clarke was sitting up in bed, playing with the doll Marcus had bought her, cradling it in her arms, pressing kisses to its face. A tear escaped down Abby’s cheek and she brushed it away.

“Morning, baby!” she said in as bright a voice as she could muster.

Clarke looked up. “Where daddy?” she said like she did every morning.

“He’s still at work, sweetheart.” Abby didn’t know how much Clarke understood about why Marcus wasn’t here with them. It wasn’t an easy thing to explain to someone whose vocabulary was so slim. Abby couldn’t understand it herself most days, so how was she supposed to make Clarke understand? It was better for now that she thought he was away working.

She bathed Clarke and dressed her, then they sat at the table eating toast and jelly. Clarke was quiet while she ate, and the house seemed so still and empty. Their breakfasts had been like this for nearly two years before Marcus, but it was amazing how quickly you got used to something, to someone. Breakfasts with him were a loud affair, full of him teasing Clarke, or talking about their plans for the day. Now the silences stretched, threatening to engulf Abby, especially in the evenings, and at night when she was alone in their cavernous bed.

It felt strange being in the condo without Marcus as well. She’d come to think of it as their home, but it was his really. Abby had wanted to move back to her old apartment, but Marcus had insisted they stay here, said he didn’t want to be responsible for unsettling Clarke any more than he was already doing. It was the only thing Abby and he had agreed on in the end.

She sighed, finished her coffee and got Clarke ready for the doctor’s.

Two hours later and she was walking back to the condo, the results of the test tucked into her purse. She’d barely listened while the doctor told her what she already knew. She tried to summon up anger at the waste of time this all was, but she couldn’t. She was just too damned sad.

\---

“Are you going to mope around here all day AGAIN, Marcus?” Vera moved Kane’s feet from off the coffee table. “This isn’t a hotel, you know. Show some respect.”

Kane was transported back twenty years in an instant, to when he was a restless, surly teenager, bored while waiting to go to college, he and Vera getting on each other’s nerves. His father had been here then to negotiate between them, but he was long gone, and what Kane had recently done had upset Vera more than anything he’d ever done in his entire life. She didn’t speak to him except to admonish him.

“Sorry,” he said.

“I don’t care for sorry,” said Vera, picking up the sections of the newspaper and shuffling them into order. “I want you to do something. Either get back up to Arkadia Falls and make things right with Abby or go to work. You have no reason to feel sorry for yourself; you are the architect of your own downfall.”

“I can’t go back to Arkadia Falls, and I can’t go into work.”

“Then what is the point of you?” She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring, then her face softened. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t mean that.”

“I know,” said Kane, because he was in no mood for an argument.

“I just don’t understand you, Marcus,” Vera said for the hundredth time since he’d arrived on her doorstep with his bags. “I thought everything was going so well.” She flopped into the chair opposite him. Her face was pale and lined, her eyes dark and sad. Kane felt terrible like he did all the damned time about everything.

“I told you; it just wasn’t working out.”

“But she’s in the middle of her court case! You left her with that? You walked out. It’s just.” She shook her head. “It’s cruel, Marcus. You’re a lot of things but I never thought you were that. Not a son of mine.”

“There was no point prolonging the misery. That wouldn’t help her either. I thought I wanted that kind of life, a wife and child, but I didn’t. It was too much.” Kane picked up a cushion, held it in front of his stomach. He felt sick having to pretend to be this person, wanted to tell his mother the real reason why he’d left Abby, but the less Vera knew the better. Her outrage would seem more real when she was talking to her friends, and that would get back to Rebecca. She’d know he was committed to what he’d done.

“I don’t believe you. This is to do with Rebecca, isn’t it? She said something to you. Why won’t you tell me what went on that day?”

“It has nothing to do with her, except seeing her made me realise I was using Abby to hide away from my problems. Running away like you always said I was.”

Vera’s sigh was full of anger and disappointment. “Whatever the reason you’ve broken her heart. I warned you not to do that. That poor girl. That poor child. They didn’t deserve this.”

Vera had tears in her eyes, which was a rare sight, and it made them well up in Kane’s eyes too. He blinked them away.

“It’s better for all of us in the long run.”

\---

Abby was washing the last of the dishes when her laptop buzzed. She dried her hands quickly, ran into the dining room so she could answer. She clicked on the programme and Marcus’s face filled the screen.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

Abby’s heart lifted at the sight of him. “Hi. How are you?”

“Still in my mother’s bad books.” He grimaced.

“I’m so sorry, Marcus.”

“She hates me.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. She’s upset that’s all.”

Marcus shook his head, the movement slow on the screen, making his face blurry. “I don’t think she believes why I’ve left you, but she hates me for it anyway. She called me cruel today.”

“Oh, God. She doesn’t know the truth.”

“I know, and I feel terrible all the time. I’ve hurt her so badly.”

“She’ll understand once she knows.”

“That might never be.” His shoulders drooped, and Abby’s heart went out to him.

“It won’t last forever. It can’t.”

“I don’t see how we can change things.” He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.

“It will change; it has to. I miss you. I miss you so much.” Abby put her hand to the computer screen and Marcus did the same.

“I think about you all the time. I can’t stand not being with you.”

“The house is so empty without you.”

Marcus sighed and moved his hand from the screen. “I know. I miss you every second of the day. What have you been doing?”

“I went to the doctor today. I got the results of the DNA test.”

Marcus laughed bitterly. “I can’t wait to see what they do with that. Do you think Callie will try to use it even without Rebecca’s statements?”

“I think she’ll try and twist it somehow yes.”

“You haven’t heard anything from Russell yet about the case? I’d have thought it would be over once they’d got the retraction.”

“He hasn’t heard anything from Rebecca or the other side. The court case won’t end just because Rebecca’s accusations are withdrawn. It just means I’m back to where I was before.”

“I know, I know. I guess I just thought we’d have heard something by now.”

“She’ll leave it to the last minute, to torture us more.”

“You’re probably right.” Marcus put his hands over his face, rubbed his eyes. “How’s my girl?” he said, making an effort to smile.

“She’s fine. She misses you, but she’s okay.”

“Is she still up? Can I see her?”

“I’ll go and get her.” Abby collected Clarke from the living room and sat her on her knee.

Clarke looked at Abby and then at the screen. “Daddy!” she said, pointing to Marcus.

“Yes, that’s daddy. Say hello to him.”

“Lo, daddy.” Clarke bent towards the screen and kissed it, leaving a wet trail of saliva on it. Abby could see Marcus’s big smile as she wiped the mess with a tissue.

“Hi, angel. Are you being a good girl for mommy?”

“Yes.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Playing with dolly.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Guess what daddy’s having for dinner tonight?”

“Don’t know,” said Clarke, shrugging.

“What’s our favourite thing to eat? What do we like to make?”

“PEESA!” Clarke shouted.

“Yes! I’m having pizza.”

“How did you persuade Vera to that?” said Abby.

“I didn’t. I’m ordering take-out. She won’t be happy.”

“Don’t go off your healthy eating just because you’re not here.”

“I won’t. It’s a treat that’s all.”

“Daddy book pease,” said Clarke and she bounced on Abby’s knee.

“You’re ready for a book? Which one?”

“Bear!” she shouted.

“How did I guess it would be that?” Marcus grinned, and he held the book in front of him.

Abby watched as he read the story to Clarke. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. She’d been devastated when he’d come back from Minneapolis and told her of Rebecca’s demands, and that he’d agreed to them. They’d argued long into the night about what they were going to do. Abby felt they should fight her, stand up for themselves. She didn’t care for her reputation, or a book deal that hadn’t even been completed yet. The loss of the court case, the tarnishing of Jake’s memory was the most difficult thing to bear, but Jake was gone, and Abby was damned if she was going to give up her and Clarke’s happiness for something that was in the past, and that could never bring Jake back to life.

There was no turning Marcus, though. He’d made up his mind on the road to Arkadia Falls and nothing Abby said changed it. He wasn’t going to let her suffer because of Rebecca and that was that. In the end they’d decided on a pretend separation, which was turning out to be as hard as a real one. Abby was glad he’d told her what had happened, hadn’t just left her like everyone thought he had, because that would have been too devastating for words. No matter how much they spoke to each other the consequence was still that he wasn’t here. She and Clarke were alone again, and so was Marcus. And on top of all that, their friends and family thought it was real, were upset and angry with him, and that hurt Abby more than anything else.

Clarke was drifting by the time Marcus had read the story twice.

“I’ll put her to bed,” she said to him.

“Night, angel,” he said. “Give her a kiss from me.”

“I will.”

“Call me back when she’s asleep.”

“Okay.”

Abby closed the laptop and put Clarke to bed. She sat for a while watching her sleep, trying to push the tears away so she’d be bright for Marcus.

“God, I miss you,” he said when she called him back. “I miss your smell and your touch and everything about you.”

“I miss you in our bed. It’s so cold without you.”

“I miss that too. I want to be with you, to lie next to you, to love you.”

Abby’s resolve crumbled, and she let out a sob. “I can’t do this, Marcus.”

“We have to,” he said, his own voice cracking.

“I want you here with me and Clarke where you belong. I want you in my arms. I need you. I love you.”

“I love you too. There’s nothing I want more than to be in Arkadia Falls with you.”

“Then come back. We’ll make it work somehow. I don’t care about the consequences.”

“You do, Abby. You do really.”

“I don’t. You’re all I care about.”

“I can’t come back there.” His face was pale, even taking into account the way the screen drained him of colour. His eyes loomed large as he moved closer.

“Why not? Why not, Marcus? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

“There’s something. I know there is. Tell me the truth.”

Marcus’s breath hitched. “Because she might hurt you. She might hurt you in other ways.”

“How do you mean?”

He sighed, rubbed his brow. “I don’t know. Physically. I don’t know if she would for sure, but she threatened to kill me, and I fear what she might do to you, to Clarke.”

“She threatened to kill you? Oh, my God, Marcus! Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, there was enough going on as it was, and it wasn’t a threat, threat, more like, I don’t know, it wasn’t current.”

“I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.”

“She said when she saw us together in Minneapolis that she wanted to kill me, and she would have if it had been less public.”

“She said that? That definitely sounds like a threat to me. Jesus, Marcus. You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was low and gravelly, and he sounded so broken. Abby didn’t have the heart to stay mad at him.

“We can’t go on like this forever, Marcus.”

“Let’s just get the court case out of the way. That’s the first priority. Then we’ll see about the rest.”

“I don’t know if I can last another week without seeing you.”

“We’ll see each other soon, I promise. It won’t be long.”

“Okay. What are you going to do tonight?”

“I’m going to order the pizza and then there’s a movie on I want to catch.”

“What movie?”

“The Post. It’s a political story about the Vietnam war and the Washington Post.”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s something to do. I’m bored here.”

“You should go back to work, Marcus. It will take your mind off everything, at least for a while.”

He sighed heavily. “I can’t cope with the disappointment. Raven... she won’t even look at me.”

“Can’t you bring her into your confidence? She might be a support for you.”

“No,” he said fiercely. “I don’t want anyone else involved. No one else can get hurt because of me.”

“I understand that, but I think you should brave work. She’ll have to talk to you eventually, you just need to brazen it out.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Abby knew that was probably code for he wasn’t going to do it but he wanted her to stop talking about it. It was encouraging, nevertheless. “Good,” she said. “Do you want to watch the movie together later?”

“What do you mean?”

“Call me and we’ll watch it while we’re on the phone. We don’t have to talk, just knowing you’re there will be company.”

He smiled then. “Okay. I’ll bring the pizza.”

“I don’t have any Key Lime pie, but I have grape juice.”

“I have grape juice too.”

“Good,” she replied, grateful he hadn’t gone back to his old ways of drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

“It’s a date then,” said Marcus with a smile.

“It’s a date. Call me later. I love you.”

“I will. I love you too.”

Abby disconnected the call with a sigh. She’d lost one love, and she was determined she wasn’t going to lose Marcus as well. He lost heart sometimes, like she had when she was ambushed by Callie’s lawyer. He’d brought her round then, and now she had to be strong for him. No more I can’t do this. She could, and she would.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane returns to work, and Abby marks Jake's anniversary

The next day Kane steeled himself with a deep breath as he stood outside the headquarters of Kane & Co. He and Abby had talked long after the movie was over about his fears and how he needed to keep up appearances. Rebecca had to think he was moving on, embracing his old life fully, and sitting around the house in Edina with his mother glaring at him wasn’t going to achieve that. He probably should have stayed in a hotel, but even her hostility was better than being completely alone. He couldn’t bear the thought of that.

He entered the building, grateful that Raven wasn’t covering reception so he had a couple of precious minutes before he had to subject himself to her disappointment and anger. There was nothing he’d like more than to tell her the truth, but she could be hot headed, and he didn’t trust that if she bumped into Rebecca she’d be able to hide her feelings. She didn’t know about the court case or the latest Rebecca developments, and that’s how he wanted it to stay, despite the fact it meant she was even more upset with him than his mother was.

He walked through the main workspace, and heads turned to look at him, not because of what was going on, because no one knew, but because he hadn’t been here since he brought Abby to Minneapolis. They were no doubt surprised to see him. He opened the door to his office, took off his coat and hung it on the rack, then he sat down at his old desk and sighed. First hurdle over. He texted Abby a photo of the room.

 _Made it!_ he said.

Her reply was swift. _You’re the best. Love you xx_

_Love you xx_

Kane looked at the picture on his phone of Abby and Clarke taken last time they were in the city. This was all for them. He could do it. He stood up, went to the door and asked one of the secretaries to send Raven to him.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” she said as she came into his office.

“Shut the door, please,” said Kane and she did as he asked, standing against it with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was narrow-eyed and unsmiling. Kane didn’t blame her. “I’m back for good, and we need to get a few things straight.”

Raven put her tongue in her cheek but didn’t say anything. This was going to be tough.

“I want to move forward, not dwell in the past. I have plans for the Minneapolis store, and I want you with me. I need you to help me take them forward.”

“I thought I was taking things forward in Arkadia Falls, or has that been dropped now, like everything else?”

“Obviously the store in Arkadia Falls and the one in Duluth are still happening, but I’m going to put someone else up there, someone with a less, erm, personal connection.”

Raven uncrossed her arms, came towards him. “A personal connection? Is that what you call it? Is that all Abby was? A connection?”

“This has nothing to do with Abby. This is about Kane and Co.”

“Oh, yes, God forbid anything should get in the way of the precious company. Never mind there’s a woman up there who loves you, and a child who adores you! Keep the company going. Can’t lose that!”

“That’s enough, Raven.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not! I don’t understand what has happened. How can you just leave her like that? She’s amazing. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you and you’ve just thrown her away.”

“You don’t know what has happened, and this has nothing to do with you,” said Kane through gritted teeth, because despite the fact he knew he hadn’t done what Raven was accusing him of, he felt defensive, and his blood was rising.

“It has everything to do with me! She’s my friend! I sat with her while she cried over your pathetic body in the hospital. She got in a car to go and see you when that was the most painful thing she could ever do. She’s done nothing but love you, give you everything you ever wanted. You can’t expect me to sit back and say nothing.”

“I do expect that,” replied Kane, his voice firm although inside his heart was breaking. If he’d really done what people thought he had he was the biggest bastard in the world and Raven had every right to be angry. It was painful listening to her, knowing how she felt, knowing he was losing her friendship, her support.

“I’m going to call her. I haven’t done it so far because, well, I didn’t know if I could stay calm and didn’t want to be disloyal to you, but now I’ve seen you sitting here like nothing has happened, talking about a future that doesn’t have Abby in it, I have to talk to her.”

“You won’t talk to her. She wants nothing to do with Kane and Co and you need to respect that. I’ve hurt her, yes, I know. She doesn’t need people from my side of things interfering and upsetting her more.”

“I’m not on your side of things!”

“You’re an employee, and you will do as I ask!” Kane spoke more harshly than he intended because he was scared Raven was going to mess things up, kick up a fuss, and all he wanted was for Abby to quietly disappear from any association with him and Kane & Co.

Raven was so shocked she took a strangled breath and staggered back as though he’d dealt her a physical blow. “Oh, my God!” she said, tears in her eyes.

“Raven...”

She held her hand out to shut him up. “I didn’t think you were like this,” she said sadly.

“Well now you know.” Kane couldn’t bear the look of pain in her eyes anymore. He wanted her gone, and the easiest way to do that was to put up his walls and return to the closed-off man he was after Rebecca left. It had worked for him then, kind of, and it would work now.

Raven looked at him hard for a long second, then turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her. Kane picked up a mug and threw it at the wall where it shattered into large jagged pieces. It made him feel better for a microsecond, and then all his pain came back with a vengeance. He wished it was Rebecca’s head he’d just smashed against the wall, and he wasn’t even sorry for having that thought.

\---

The twenty fourth of April dawned bright and clear. Snow still lay on the ground but there’d been no fresh fall for a while. Spring had finally arrived. Two years ago, Abby had gone into labour with Clarke, and set in motion everything that had happened since. She was determined not to be sad though. She’d spoken to Marcus at breakfast and felt comforted. Now she was getting Clarke ready for a special trip. Marcus had been helping her plan it, was supposed to be with her, but maybe it was better to do it alone. Maybe this day should always be for her and Clarke; their one day together with Jake.

She left the condo and pushed the stroller along the riverbank. The tree where Marcus had proposed to her loomed and she paused, remembering that moment. They’d never managed to look for a ring. Who knew when or if they ever would? She probably shouldn’t be thinking about that today, but then why not? Life was a complicated mix of past and present, and she’d come to realise that being happy now didn’t mean forgetting the past or the people you’d loved before. It just meant making adjustments, giving everyone room in a heart that seemed capable of expanding forever. The more love you had in it the better, surely?

She walked slowly along, remembering times she and Jake had rowed his boat along the river, him deliberately chasing the rapids to try and scare her. She hadn’t been to the falls the town was named after in a while, not since before she was pregnant. She’d have to remedy that, take Marcus. Did he like to swim? She didn’t know. Clarke would be old enough to go in the pool this summer. There wasn’t a child in Arkadia Falls who didn’t know how to swim; she’d love it. She hoped Marcus could swim. She pulled out her phone to ask him.

_Can you swim? X_

She wasn’t expecting a quick reply as he was busy at the bookstore, but her phone pinged before she had time to put it back in her pocket.

_Yes. Why? Is the coffee shop serial killer plotting to drown me? X_

Abby laughed out loud at his reply and Clarke swivelled her head to look at her.

“Funny, mommy?”

“Yes. Daddy is very funny. He makes mommy laugh.”

 _Yes!_ She inserted two winking emojis. _I was thinking you could teach Clarke this summer X_

_I’d love to xxx_

Abby put the phone away and smiled as she continued down the path. Sometimes it was like they were in denial about their situation, and others it loomed as the only thing she could think about. It was one thing making plans for the summer, but would Marcus even be here? Yes. Keep positive.

She arrived in the town centre ten minutes later and headed for the garden centre. The assistant brought out the item she was there to collect.

“Oh, my,” said Abby. “That’s bigger than I thought.”

“It’s a great specimen, Mrs Griffin, yes.”

Abby looked the cottonwood tree up and down. “It is. You’ve done well. It’s just, well I was supposed to have help with it but I don’t.”

“I can keep it for you if you like.”

“No, it has to be today.” Abby looked at Clarke’s stroller and then at the six-foot tree. Maybe if she fastened it into the stroller and carried Clarke?

“Mrs Griffin!” said a familiar voice, and Abby looked up to see John Murphy grinning at her.

“Hi John. I’m surprised to see you here. Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Are you officially a teacher today?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t need to worry about that. What’s the problem with the tree?”

“I can’t manage it. It’s too big.”

“Where are you taking it? We could deliver it for you.”

“I need to take it now. I’m planting it in the woods down by the rapids. It’s my husband’s anniversary.”

“Oh, right. Yes. Well, I’ll carry it for you.” He picked up the tree before Abby could object. “Have you got a spade?”

“Erm, no.” Abby realised how unprepared she was for this. She’d been thinking too much about what she was going to say, forgetting the practicalities.

“I’ll get one.” Murphy grabbed a spade from a cupboard, picked up the tree again and slung it over his shoulder. “Lead on,” he said.

Abby returned to the river, pushed Clarke upstream towards the biggest of the rapids. “Thanks for this,” she said to John. “I really appreciate it.”

“No worries. How long has it been, then, since the accident?”

“Two years.”

“Wow, that’s gone fast.”

“In some ways, not in others.”

“I guess the kid’s a constant reminder.”

Murphy’s casual disregard for niceties made Abby smile. It was always refreshing when people didn’t treat her like she was delicate or avoided the subject of Jake altogether.

“She’s the best thing to come out of it.”

“I suppose. If you like that kind of thing.” Murphy looked up at Abby with a sly grin.

“Good job I do,” replied Abby.

Murphy shifted the tree to his other shoulder. “He was alright your fella.”

“You knew him?” Abby was surprised. She knew Murphy’s mom had known Jake’s mom, but not that their sons had ever met.

“He wrote about this program I was in once for kids that are, you know, misunderstood.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. He did okay. A lot of people are looking for an angle. They just come in and they already think they know what they’re gonna find, and so they do. He wasn’t like that.”

Abby was moved by Murphy’s words. “He was a good man,” she sniffed.

“Yeah.” Murphy set the tree down at the edge of the woodland. “Is this it?”

Abby surveyed the woods where she and Jake had grown up. Sandra’s old house was on the other side, and she and Jake had come here to play when they were kids, and then to do other things when they were older. She smiled at the memories.

“Yes. This is perfect.”

“Do you want me to dig the hole for you?”

“No. I can do it. You’ve done enough.”

“It’s okay. Let me break the ground. It’s hard with all the snow.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Abby took Clarke out of the stroller and stood with her in her arms, watching Murphy as his spade slowly made a dent in the hard ground. “This is where me and your father used to come,” she said to her daughter. “We did things here you’re not allowed to do until you’re thirty.”

Murphy looked round at her. “Mrs Griffin!” he said.

“You keep that to yourself, John Murphy,” said Abby with a smile.

Murphy grinned as he kept digging. “There’s just a few spades left now. Do you want to finish it?” He held the spade out to Abby and she took it, holding Clarke out to him in return.

“What? I’m not holding her!” His face was a mixture of disgust and amusement.

“She won’t bite you,” she said, like she’d said to Marcus the first time he’d held her on the bus to Duluth.

Murphy took Clarke with trepidation, held her at arm’s length like Marcus had. Men!

Abby scooped out the last few spades of dirt, stood the tree in the hole and then filled the soil back in. “Perfect,” she said. She turned to look at Murphy.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, handing Clarke back to her.

“Thanks, John,” she said, holding his hand for a moment before letting it go.

Murphy shrugged. “You were always my favourite,” he said, then he left before Abby could say anything else. She brushed a tear from her cheek.

Abby stood with Clarke in her arms and looked at the tree. “This is for your father, Jake,” she said. “He’s not the same person as daddy, as Mar Mar. I know that’s confusing. You’ll understand one day. He’d have loved you like daddy does. He made you, and that will always make him special. I loved him a lot, and he was so looking forward to meeting you.” She swallowed the tears that were rising. “I know he’d be proud of us.”

“Where daddy?” said Clarke, looking up at Abby.

“Daddy’s always here with us; both of them are.”

Abby touched the nascent leaves of the tree, stroked the buds that were still unfurling.

“I hope you grow strong and true and live a long life. Be shelter and protection for anyone that needs it. Be here for our daughter, and our daughter’s daughter. It’s a lot to ask of you, I know, but we’ll love you and care for you, and visit you every year.”

She stepped back. “I love you, Jake.” She set Clarke on the ground and took hold of her hand. “Let’s go home,” she said, and she pushed the stroller with one hand, held her daughter tight with the other, and headed back down the riverbank.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Clarke's birthday, but will it be a happy one for everyone?

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Clarke, happy birthday to you!”

Clarke sat in her highchair while Abby and Marcus sang to her. The laptop was on the dining room table and Marcus’s voice sounded tinny in the large room. They were eating breakfast together, Abby and Clarke in the condo, Marcus hiding in the study of his childhood home, the door firmly shut so his mother wouldn’t hear him.

“What’s this, Clarke?” said Abby as she handed their daughter a gift. Clarke looked at it confused, so Abby tore the paper off, opened the box. “Oh, they’re like cubes to play with.” She looked at the box. “Curiosity Cubes, oh cool!” She rattled them and tiny balls rolled around one of the cubes. Clarke took it off her, shook it herself.

“Who’s that from?” said Marcus.

“Your mom!”

“Really? Wow. I’d have thought she’d have given her a share certificate or something,”

“Marcus! She’s not that remote.”

“I know.”

“I’ll have to call her later.”

Marcus groaned. “Please don’t.”

“I’ll have to! It’s only polite.”

“She’s just going to interrogate you.”

“I can cope.”

Abby watched as Marcus pouted. “I hope it’s not windy in Minneapolis or your face is going to stay like that,” she said, and his frown slowly turned into a smile.

“What else has she got?”

Abby opened presents from Sandra and Raven and what seemed like half the school staff.

“That just leaves mommy and daddy’s present,” she said.

“Did you manage to get it okay?” said Marcus, and he leant forward as though that would help him see more clearly.

“Yes, it was delivered yesterday. I put it in her bedroom before I called you. Hang on.” Abby picked up the laptop and carried it into the bedroom, positioning it so Marcus could see what they’d bought Clarke.

“Oh, it looks great!” he said. “I hope she likes it.”

“She’ll love it.” Abby returned to the kitchen to get Clarke. “Do you want to see what mommy and daddy have got you, baby?”

“Toy for ME!” she said as she toddled ahead of Abby. She stopped dead when she saw the rocking horse, then turned and looked at Abby, a confused look on her face.

“She doesn’t know what it is,” Abby said to Marcus with a laugh.

“Put her on it.”

“You can ride it, baby. Do you want to try?”

Clarke nodded slowly, and Abby picked her up and deposited her on the horse. She sat uncertainly on its back, and Abby rocked the horse gently. “Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe I’m missing this,” said Marcus, his voice breaking.

Abby looked across at the laptop, where his face seemed so far away. “You’re not. You’re here with us.”

“Not like I should be. I should be helping her.”

Clarke reached out her arms to Abby. “Down, mommy.”

Abby set her on the floor and she ran over to her bed, picked up her doll.

“She doesn’t like it,” said Marcus sadly.

“She does. She stayed on it didn’t she? She just needs to get used to it. She hasn’t had something like this before.”

“Okay.” His eyes were downcast and his mouth set in a tight line.

“Don’t do this, Marcus. We said we’d be happy today.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This is all just a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“I know it’s hard, but look.” Abby turned the laptop so Marcus could see Clarke sitting on the bed, talking to her doll. “She’s happy. She misses you but she’s happy. She’s sitting on the bed you made her, playing with the doll you bought her. She loves that doll so much. You’re in every part of our lives.”

“I know. I just miss you both so much.”

“We love...” Abby heard a door creak hundreds of miles away, and Marcus turned, mumbled “shit” and then the screen went black.

“We love you,” she whispered, and then she sighed. Four more days before they were due back in court. They were going to be long, long days, and then what? Rebecca’s demands weren’t going to change. They still had no plan for how to deal with her in the long term.

\---

Abby backed into the door of the coffee shop later that day and turned to see if her usual table was free. There were only two other people in the shop and the corner table was empty. She parked the stroller, took off her coat and Clarke’s and took a seat. Clarke was clingy after their breakfast with Marcus. Abby thought it was confusing for her being able to see him but not touch him. She didn’t say that to Marcus, though, because it would upset him more than he already was, and Abby was worried about his blood pressure and his heart. All of this was worse for him because he had to deal not only with the separation but being the villain of the piece. He didn’t deserve it, and it made Abby want to go down there and tell them all what a wonderful man he was, but she couldn’t.

Lincoln came over, a big smile on his face. “Look at you two!” he said. “I haven’t seen you in ages. Clarke has grown so much.”

“She’s two today,” said Abby.

“Of course she is, yes. Wow. You look very grown up, Clarke. Happy Birthday!” Lincoln bent and gave her a veggie straw.

“Say thank you to Lincoln, Clarke.”

“Tank you.”

“She has her birthday outfit on,” said Abby, looking at her daughter. Clarke did look more grown up in her pink flowered smock and blue leggings. She was changing, leaving some of her babyishness behind.

“She looks lovely.” Lincoln stroked Clarke’s hair. “What can I get for you?” he said to Abby.

“A flat white, please, and erm, I think I’ll have a chocolate chip muffin as a treat.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Be right back.”

Lincoln left to sort out their order and Abby looked around the room, her eyes alighting on Marcus’s table. She tried to remember when she’d first noticed him, but she couldn’t; it was more of a gradual awareness. It was probably his punctuality that first got her attention. He always arrived at the same time, half an hour after Abby, always ordered the same coffee but not the same pastry. He varied that, although muffins were his favourite.

“Here we go,” said Lincoln, interrupting her reverie. He set Abby’s coffee and muffin on the table, then he pulled out the seat next to her and sat down. “How are things with you?”

“Fine,” said Abby, realising where this was going to go. She’d known it would be a mistake going out in public but the need to leave the quiet of the condo had overridden her fear of being ambushed. Now it was happening already.

“I heard what happened in the court room. No one believes that, Abby.”

“I know. It’s just a mistake. It’s fine.”

“It will be resolved, I know it.”

Lincoln patted Abby’s hand and she felt relief. That hadn’t been so bad.

“Where’s Kane?” Lincoln said. “Haven’t seen him for ages either.”

Oh. Damn. She was hoping this subject wouldn’t come up. “Erm. He’s in Minneapolis. We’ve, erm, we’ve split up.”

“What?” Lincoln’s look of shock made Abby go cold. She hated lying to people, especially people who cared about her, who’d helped her during her grief over Jake. “Why? Sorry, that’s really personal, I know. I’m just surprised. You guys seemed so happy.”

“With everything that’s been happening, it was just too much. I don’t really want to talk about it,” said Abby, hoping that would be enough for Lincoln.

He sighed. “You know that bitch was in here yesterday.”

“What bitch?” said Abby, her heart rate picking up.

“Callie Cartwig. She was here with some dark-haired woman, hunched together like two witches stirring a pot.”

Abby’s blood ran cold. A dark-haired woman? Surely not? “What did the woman look like?”

“Pretty striking actually. Really blue eyes. Tall, slim. Not the kind we usually get in here,” he said.

Rebecca was here? Rebecca was in Arkadia Falls, talking to Callie? What the hell?

“Are you okay?” said Lincoln, concern in his voice.

“Yes, I’m fine. Did you hear what they were talking about?” Abby tried to slow her heart, keep calm so she wouldn’t betray herself to Lincoln.

“No. They were in the far corner of the room.” He gestured to the opposite side of the store to where Abby was sitting. “I guess they didn’t want to be overheard.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

Lincoln smiled. “You’re welcome. Anything if it helps.” He stood, picked up his tray. “Oh, I did hear one thing. They’re meeting here again.”

That got Abby’s pulse racing. “Oh? Did they say when?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

That was the day before the court case was due to resume. What the hell was going on? Abby smiled at Lincoln. “Thank you.”

A customer came in and he got up to serve them. Abby took out her phone, dialled Marcus, but it went to voicemail. He must be in a meeting. She sent him a text, asking him to call her when he was free. Something was going on, but she didn’t know how to find out what it was. He’d better call her back soon.

\---

Abby had been home a couple of hours and she’d still not heard from Marcus. She’d been tempted to call him again, but she’d already sent a text and no doubt he would ring her when he was free. She’d spoken to Vera and survived what had turned out to be more of a wake than an interrogation. Vera had been more interested in making sure Abby and Clarke were okay and hadn’t mentioned Marcus. That was upsetting in itself but all of this was for a purpose and people would understand once it was all out in the open. Abby had faith.

She was sitting on the floor in the living room with Clarke, playing with the cubes Vera had bought her, engrossed in making some tiny balls disappear into tiny holes. Clarke stood, and Abby looked up at her daughter.

“Daddy!” Clarke said, and she toddled away.

“It’s not time to speak to daddy yet,” said Abby, and she got reluctantly to her feet.

“It’s always time to speak to daddy,” said a familiar voice, and Abby turned to see Marcus standing in the doorway. Clarke was running towards him and he swept her up in his arms, peppered her face with kisses. “Hi, angel,” he said. “I missed you.”

Abby’s heart swelled at the sight of him. She was rooted to the spot for a moment, unsure if she was really seeing him or it was wishful thinking.

“Don’t I get kisses from mommy as well?” he said.

“Yes,” said Abby, and she ran to him, put her arms around him and Clarke and pressed her lips to his. They kissed, and he held her tight, squashing her to him.

“My girls,” he said when they parted. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

“What are you doing here?” Abby said as Marcus put Clarke down and they moved into the living room. He put his bag on the sofa, took her in his arms again. Abby entwined her fingers in his hair, stroking the soft waves. His warm scent filled her nostrils. God how she’d missed him.

Marcus kissed her nose, trailed the back of his finger along her cheekbone. “I couldn’t bear another moment without you,” he murmured.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Clarke was pulling Marcus’s trouser leg and he looked down at her.

“What is it, angel?”

“Play.” She flopped down on the floor in full expectation that Marcus would follow.

“Okay. Let me take my coat off.” He shrugged out of his coat and Abby took it from him. “I have another bag outside the door,” he said to her. “Can you bring it in? Don’t look in it.”

“Don’t look in it? Why not?”

“Never mind why not.” Marcus grinned at her, then he pulled off his sweater and sat on the floor next to Clarke in his grey t-shirt and black jeans. Abby watched him for a moment, her heart full, and then she went out into the hallway and picked up his other bag, which was long and heavy. What the hell did he have in here?

She brought it inside, put it in their bedroom. “Do you want a drink?” she said when she returned to the living room.

“I’d love a coffee,” he said.

Abby went into the kitchen. She stood at the coffee machine, listening to it hiss. She was so happy to see Marcus; her whole body was warm with the thought of him being here, being able to look at him properly, touch him, hear his voice. What was he doing here, though? What did this mean for the court case, for the future? She had to tell him what Lincoln had said. That could change everything.

\---

Kane played with Clarke but kept glancing at Abby who was sitting on the sofa watching them. She was wearing her grey jeans and a blue cotton top. Her hair was messy: half up, half down. It had been in a neat ponytail when he’d seen her via the laptop at breakfast, but something must have happened in between because now it was sticking out everywhere, and strands of it were falling into her face. He liked it, he had to admit. He wanted to brush them away, and then take the band out, let her hair fall onto her shoulders, brush it with his fingers. He sighed. Stop it, stop it! There’d be time for that later.

“Are you okay?” said Abby.

“Couldn’t be better,” he said, looking up at her and smiling.

“It’s so good to have you here,” she said.

“It’s good to be here.” Anticipation was building in his veins. He had a surprise for her later, and one for Clarke. The one for Abby was preoccupying him though. He couldn’t wait to see her face.

“I should get dinner going,” she said, looking at the clock. “It’s nearly five, and we’ll want Clarke to have an early night.”

“Will we?” said Kane with a smirk.

Abby shuffled along the sofa so she was sitting behind him. He felt her hands on his head, her fingers raking through his hair, scraping against his scalp, making it tingle. She pushed his head forward, kissed the back of his neck, pulled his t-shirt down so she could kiss as much flesh as possible. She reached his ear, nibbled it, ran her tongue over the outside. Kane moaned, and part of him started to throb.

“Stop that,” he whispered.

Clarke looked up, and Abby sat back. “Any requests for dinner?” she said, looking innocent, as though she hadn’t just set him on fire.

“There’s no need to cook. I’ve got everything under control.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take over from me here and you’ll see.”

Kane stood, adjusted his jeans to hide his bulge. “Play with mommy for a while, Clarke. I’m going to get us something to eat.”

“Marcus?” said Abby, a confused smile on her face. Kane bent towards her, kissed her head.

“Wait and see.”

He retrieved his bag from the bedroom, put the largest item in it in the dining room, and the smallest in his pocket. He tacked a banner to the wall that said Happy Birthday, hung colourful streamers from the ceiling, and blew up balloons that he scattered around the room. He then took the bag into the kitchen, pulled out an array of cartons.

The minute he’d seen Clarke opening her birthday presents without him physically being there he’d known he was going back to Arkadia Falls. Nothing was worth what he was missing out on, what she was, and Abby. They were a family, and it wasn’t right that Rebecca was tearing them apart.

His mother had nearly caught him on the laptop, asked him who he was talking to with a sly look on her face. He was sure she knew, maybe not all, but something. He wasn’t going to tell her though. Not yet. There was too much at stake. He didn’t have much of a plan beyond getting home before Clarke went to bed. He’d worry about everything else in the morning.

He opened the boxes he’d got from his favourite restaurant, spooned the contents into trays and put them in the oven. It was cheating, but he hadn’t had time for anything else, and he didn’t want Abby cooking. He wanted to treat her, to give her time off, a chance to relax and just enjoy their daughter’s birthday.

“Do I need to get dressed up?” said Abby from the living room.

“No. You’re perfect as you are.”

Kane set the table, opened a bottle of wine and let it breathe. He poured juice for Clarke, put her favourite bowl and spoon in her place.

“You can come in now,” he said, standing at the door between the two rooms.

Abby helped Clarke up, and they walked hand in hand towards Kane. Abby had a huge smile on her face and it made Kane smile.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Treating my two favourite people.”

“Oh, my God,” Abby said as she walked into the room. “Look at this, Clarke!”

Clarke went immediately for the balloons, hitting them and chasing them around the room.

“Oh, I love it, Marcus. Thank you.”

Abby had tears in her eyes when she looked at him, and to Kane’s immense surprise he sobbed.

“I couldn’t not be here,” he said.

“I know. I’m so glad you are.” Abby wrapped her arms right around him and laid her head on his chest.

Kane held her tight, rested his chin on her hair, kissed it softly, then he pulled away, because Clarke was about to jump on a balloon and he didn’t want tears before they’d eaten.

“Don’t jump on that, Clarke!” he said, and Abby moved towards her, picked her up and set her in her highchair. Clarke’s face started to crumple until Abby passed a balloon to her and they batted it clumsily back and forth.

Kane went into the kitchen, brought out their meals. He set Clarke’s in front of her. “Spaghetti Bolognese for the birthday girl, and chicken cacciatore for mommy and daddy.” He returned to the kitchen, got the warmed bread, and a bowl of salad. “Enjoy!” he said.

“Marcus, this is amazing!” Abby took a bite of her meal. “Oh, God!”

“It’s good, yes? I can’t take credit for cooking it. I got it from Bar La Grassa.” He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Abby.

“Welcome home, daddy,” she said, “And happy birthday, Clarke!” They clinked glasses. Clarke was too busy sucking spaghetti into her mouth to care about the toast to her.

They talked about Abby’s tree planting day while they ate, and Kane told her how he’d left a cryptic note for his mom and was expecting her to figure it out sometime tomorrow.

“I went to the coffee shop today,” said Abby, and something in her voice made Kane pay extra attention.

“Did you get nostalgic?”

“Yes. A little. I had an interesting chat with Lincoln, though.”

“What did he want?” said Kane with undisguised animosity. He hadn’t forgotten the numerous times the man had given him side-eye, not to mention how he’d told Abby that Kane knew about her past, and nearly caused her to leave him for good. Okay, that was Kane’s fault, he knew that deep down, but it suited him to place some of the blame on the over-muscled shoulders of the barista.

“Don’t get mad,” said Abby, a sentence guaranteed to make the hairs rise on Kane’s arms, which they did.

“Why would I get mad?”

Abby glanced at Clarke, who was pulling a string of spaghetti out of her sauce with her fingers.

“I think Rebecca is here in Arkadia Falls.”

“What?” Kane’s voice was loud because Clarke looked up and frowned at him. “Sorry,” he said, lowering his voice. “How do you know that?”

“Lincoln saw Callie in the coffee shop yesterday and she was with a woman who matches Rebecca’s description exactly. They were whispering to each other, practically conspiring Lincoln said.”

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“I don’t know, Marcus, but it’s worrying.”

Kane was at a loss to explain why Rebecca was here. If she’d been here yesterday she can’t have followed him up, so she must have been planning it. He didn’t want to think about this now, have her intruding on their evening.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” he said, and was relieved when Abby nodded. “I want tonight to be about us, no one else.”

“I agree. But we do need to talk about it.”

“We will.”

They finished their meals and Kane brought out his next surprise, a cake for Clarke in the shape of a bear. There were two candles sparkling on it. “Happy Birthday, Clarke.” He set the cake in front of her and Clarke immediately tried to touch the candles.

“Don’t touch those. You have to blow them out.”

Clarke looked at him as though he was speaking a foreign language, which he supposed he was.

“Blow, like this.” He showed her how to do it but all she could manage was a bubble of saliva.

“That’s right,” said Kane regardless, and he blew out the candles for her. Abby was recording the whole scene on her phone, and she moved behind Kane and Clarke, holding the phone at arm’s length.

“Say cheese!” she said and took a photo when they all shouted the word.

“I have one last thing,” said Kane after they’d finished their cake. “I don’t think Clarke will appreciate it yet, but I couldn’t resist.” He picked up the large package he’d secreted in the corner of the room and put it on the table.

“What is it?” said Abby.

“Open it and see.”

Abby tore off the paper and Kane watched as her eyes widened. “Oh, wow!”

“It’s a first edition set. The first collection of the Little House books.”

Abby took one of the books out of the box, ran her fingers over its cover. She put it to her nose, breathed deeply. “It smells old,” she said with a laugh.

“Over eighty years old,” said Kane. “We’ve had it in the bookstore a long time.”

“These are too nice, Marcus. She’ll ruin them.”

“Books are meant to be read, besides I thought I could read them to her, a bit at a time.”

“That would be amazing. I loved Little House on the Prairie when I was a kid.”

“Have you ever been to Walnut Grove?”

“I went on a school trip when I was ten or eleven maybe, and to Plum Creek.”

“We had Laura Ingalls Wilder in the bookstore once.”

“You did NOT!” Abby’s open mouth and wide eyes made Kane smile.

“I wasn’t born, obviously. It was only a couple of years before she died, but my grandfather met her and talked to her about the books and her life. The story has gone into legend in the Kane household. Ask my mother about it one day.”

“Wow! You’re part of Minnesota history. I never really thought about that before.”

“Recent history maybe. Anyway, do you think Clarke will like the books?”

“I don’t see why not. She won’t understand them yet but I’m a great believer in osmosis. They will seep into her over time.”

Kane sat back, satisfied that his surprise for Clarke had gone down well. That just left the one for Abby, which would have to wait until their daughter was asleep.

An hour later and Kane was in the kitchen having helped Abby put Clarke to bed. Abby was still in Clarke’s bedroom, tidying her toys away. Kane felt in his pocket for Abby’s present, took it out, looked at it. He felt nervous now, which was stupid, but he didn’t know if she would like it. He hadn’t bought her something like this before. She had simple tastes, whereas Kane could sometimes tend to the extravagant. He hoped he’d struck the right balance.

“That’s all the chores done,” said Abby as she walked into the kitchen.

“Yup. Everything’s straight in here too.” Kane’s pulse picked up, because the moment was coming, though Abby didn’t know it.

“Nothing to get in the way, then.” Abby came towards him, put her arms around him, her hands resting on his ass.

“No, nothing,” whispered Kane. He bent his head, captured her lips. She moaned, opening her mouth and granting access for his tongue to seek hers. Her hands gripped his ass tighter, pushed him towards her. She wiggled her hips, grinding against his growing erection. Kane buried his tongue deep in her mouth, tasting the spicy richness of her. “I missed this. I missed the taste of you,” he murmured.

Abby let out a shaky breath. “Shall we go to bed?”

Kane pulled back. “Not yet. I have something for you.”

“I know you do.” Abby grinned slyly and put her hand on the bulge in his jeans, stroking his cock, making it push against the fabric.

“Not that. Well not just that. Something else.”

“It better be good,” she said, pouting. “I’m about to burst here.”

“It is. I think.” Kane was in two minds now about whether this was a good time for the gift. His brain was fogged with desire and Abby’s eyes were heavy and glazed. “Come through to the living room.” He took her hand and led her into the room. He’d dimmed the lights earlier, lit candles. The fire was roaring, and the room was bathed in orange light. He picked up two glasses of wine, handed one to Abby.

“Here’s to us,” he said, and he held out his glass.

“Here’s to us,” she replied, a sceptical look on her face. She clinked her glass against his and they both took a sip. “What’s going on?”

Here goes, thought Kane. He put his glass on the table. “I know we’ve done this already, but not properly, not how it should be done.”

“Marcus?” Abby laughed nervously.

Kane lowered himself onto one knee, put his hand in his pocket, brought out the small box he’d put there earlier.

“Oh, my God!” said Abby, smiling broadly. “What are you doing?”

“Abigail Griffin. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?” Kane opened the box, revealed the ring he’d chosen for her. His heart was thumping, but he was smiling, because she was smiling and she looked so beautiful with her wild hair and her eyes glinting gold in the half-light.

Abby took a deep breath, put her hand on her heart. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course I will.” She held out her hand to help Kane to his feet. He took the ring out of the box, slipped it onto her finger.

“Do you like it?” he said.

“I love it. It’s gorgeous.” She looked at the ring, looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears. She put her hands on his face, and he could feel the cold of the ring against his cheek. She kissed him long and hard. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you. I love you more than anything.” Kane took her hand, kissed it. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s beautiful. I love the setting; it’s unusual.”

“It’s called a halo setting. I don’t really know what that means.” Kane laughed. “I know we were supposed to look for one together but I saw this and I just thought it would be perfect for you.”

“It is. I love the vintage style, and the diamond, it’s not too big. I wouldn’t have wanted one that was huge.”

“I didn’t think you would. It’s a carat,” he said, unable to stop himself from telling her.

She smiled. “I’d love it no matter what, but you’ve done a great job. It’s perfect.”

“So, now we’re official,” said Kane, and he held her hand, ran his thumb over the solitaire. He knew he shouldn’t feel proud, it wasn’t the modern thing, but he did. He was proud that she was his, proud she wore his ring, had chosen him. He’d never tell her that, though, because she wouldn’t like to feel like she belonged to him, but she did. She was his and he was hers. It would be like this forever.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her palm, her wrist. “I’m ready for bed now,” he whispered.

Abby laughed softly. “Follow me.”

She led him into the bedroom and stood at the end of the bed. They looked at each other. It had only been nine days, but it felt like a lifetime. Kane put his hand to her face, kissed her lips, and she melted into him. He always loved the soft moans she made when their tongues met, how she pressed herself tighter to him, put her hands in his hair, tried to mould herself to him. He undressed her slowly, enjoying each reveal of her creamy skin, kissing it. Her hair was still messy, and he took the band out like he’d wanted to earlier, let the long strands fall on her shoulders. It was soft to his touch. She sighed as he stroked it.

“What happened to this?” he said, curling his fingers in it.

“Wind, and running around after Clarke.” She smiled and stroked his own neat hair. “We’re not all as perfect as you.”

She ran a hand down his face, fingers stroking his cheek softly. He stood still while she undressed him, closed his eyes as her hands roamed his chest, tracing his muscles. Her tongue was hot and wet as she licked his nipples, sucking them hard the way she liked to be sucked.

They fell onto the bed, rolled around in each other’s arms. “I saved myself for you,” said Abby as he ran his fingers through her silky wetness.

“I can’t say the same,” said Kane. He dipped a finger inside her, then another. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Thinking about me?” she whispered, and she groaned as he stroked the rough walls of her sex.

“Yes. Thinking about this. How you feel, how you smell, how you taste.” He rolled over her, kissed his way down her body. “You smell like summer, like the air after rain.” He made his way lower, nosed into her sex, breathed her in. “You taste like autumn, like spiced lattes and cinnamon buns.” He licked her, let her juices coat his tongue.

“As long as it’s not winter down there I’m okay with that.”

Kane’s laugh spluttered from him without warning. He looked up at her; she was smiling at him, her cheeks warm, her eyes bright. “Am I getting carried away?” he said.

“A little, but I love it.” She reached down and ruffled his hair, her ring glinting in the pale light.

He returned to his task, sucked on her clitoris, making her gasp. “It’s not my fault you’re perfection,” he said, then he went to work on her, giving it everything he had until she was crying out and her thighs were quivering where they gripped his head.

“Dear God,” she said when he crawled back up to lie next to her. “I’m glad I waited.”

“That was a big release,” said Kane, kissing her lips.

“It was.” She stroked his cock idly, her fingertips running up and down the ridge. Kane groaned.

Touching yourself was never the same as being touched by someone else, especially someone you love. The anticipation alone made him sweat sometimes. He was like that now, his nerves tense, wondering what Abby would do, how far she would go. She was looking into his eyes, her pupils large and black, almost swallowing up the deep brown of her irises. He held her gaze. Her hand closed around his cock in a loose fist and she stroked him, slowly at first, pushing the skin up and down his shaft, rubbing him deliciously.

She pushed him onto his back, crawled down his body so she was straddling him. She bent her head, and her tongue touched his glans and circled it. Kane jumped, and groaned loudly. She sucked the head, ran her tongue around the underside.

“God, that’s good,” he moaned.

She took him into her mouth, her cheeks sucked in so the magnificent bones stood out sharp. He half sat, reached down, ran his thumb along one of them. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. Her lips curved into a smile around his cock. She sucked him until he had to beg her to stop before he came too soon.

Kane sat up further, and she straddled him, took his cock and placed the tip inside her. He thrust up and she pushed down at the same time and he slid all the way in, breaking through the wall into the deepest part of her. He hit her favourite spot right away because she groaned and contracted around him. She stilled, resting on his thighs. Kane put his hands on her back, pressed his fingers into her soft warm flesh. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bent her head and kissed him.

They rocked like that, slowly, their tongues buried in each other’s mouths, his cock deep within her sex. His hands slipped to her ass, gripped it, helped her slide up and down on him as their tempo increased.

“Oh, God, oh God,” she cried, and she was coming around him, squeezing him tightly. She let her head fall back and Kane captured a nipple in his mouth, sucked on it as he slid her up and down his throbbing cock. His orgasm was huge, the heat building in him until he was emptying inside her with pulse after pulse of intense pleasure. He felt light-headed, had to hold on to her to keep himself upright.

“Every time with you it just gets better,” she whispered, and they rolled onto their sides, still joined.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. He kissed her hair, and then she turned onto her back and Kane slipped out of her. They both let out a deep sigh.

Abby curled into his arm, put her hand on his chest. Kane covered her hand with his, brushed her ring with his thumb. “We’ll have to set a date,” he said.

“Hmm,” Abby murmured. Her eyes were heavy when she looked up at him. “Thanksgiving maybe? Our anniversary.”

“Of the book reading?”

“Yes.”

“That would be perfect.” Kane squeezed her shoulder where he gripped it. He thought back to that night, how close he’d come to not going. How he’d watched the door, not expecting her to come through it but hoping nevertheless, disappointed every time it opened and it wasn’t her. Then he’d seen her, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her, and his heart had skipped a beat. He’d been a fool denying what he felt all those months, denying himself this, what they now had. He was never going to lose her again.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby devise a plan to deal with Rebecca

Lying in bed the next morning Abby was tired and sore but happy. She and Marcus had made love twice the previous night and once again early this morning. Her engagement ring sat on the bedside table next to her and she looked at it as she lay with Marcus’s arm draped over her. He’d surprised her yesterday with it, but she should have known he’d want to buy it himself really. He was traditional, did things by the book. It looked expensive, way more money than Abby would have let him spend if she were with him. That was probably another reason why he’d bought it without her. She smiled, and then she frowned. They’d been caught up yesterday in the joy of him being home, of being together, but nothing had changed. If Rebecca knew he was here anything could happen, and the risks were huge if she was in the town ahead of her meeting with Callie tomorrow. They had to talk about it.

Marcus groaned and stirred. He curled tighter to her. Abby could stay here all day making love with him, but she had Clarke to get up and dressed, and they had to make plans.

“Morning,” she said, reaching back to stroke his thigh.

“Morning again,” he mumbled, and he kissed the back of her neck. She felt his cock pulse, and it swelled where it was buried in the cleft of her ass. He moved his hips, rubbed his growing length against her sex.

“We don’t have time for that,” Abby said.

“We do. We do.”

He adjusted his position and pushed inside her from behind. She didn’t offer any resistance, couldn’t, because she was wet and ready for him, had been since the first pulse. Knowing how much he desired her, how easily he was turned on was a powerful aphrodisiac. They fucked lazily, came to a warm satisfying climax.

“We need to talk about Rebecca and Callie,” Abby said as she rested her head on his chest afterwards.

“Not here. Not in our bed.”

“We can’t hide from it.”

“We won’t, but not here. This is for us.”

“Okay.”

Abby got Clarke up and dressed, and when she went through to the kitchen Marcus was spreading jelly on toast. They ate breakfast in the dining room, let Clarke run around with the balloons while they talked.

“Tell me exactly what Lincoln told you,” said Marcus.

Abby went through the entire conversation as best she could remember it. “They’re meeting tomorrow but I don’t know what time.”

“They’re obviously planning something.” Marcus took a sip of his coffee. “Do you think she knows I’m here?”

“How can she? You didn’t know yourself until you arrived yesterday.”

“I know, but she’s been second guessing me all along. She knew I’d go to see her after what happened in court.”

“That’s not a difficult thing to anticipate. She set the whole thing up.”

“Exactly, which is why I can’t help thinking this is all part of her plan too. She knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you. I agreed to her demands too easily.” He rubbed his chin. He hadn’t shaved yet this morning and he had a light stubble, making him look rebellious somehow.

“In some ways it doesn’t matter what she’s planning. What matters is what we can do about it.”

“We know where she’s going to be,” said Marcus.

“And when.”

“Yes.”

“We need to know what they’re talking about,” said Abby, butterflies forming in her stomach as she had the beginnings of an idea.

“How, though? We can’t exactly be seen in the coffee shop.”

“What if we aren’t there but someone else is,” said Abby, the idea taking shape and blossoming.

“Who?”

“Not who. What.”

Marcus shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not following you.”

“This all started because Callie recorded me without my knowledge, and then used it to first of all try to blackmail me and when that didn’t work she used it as evidence against me.”

“Yes,” said Marcus, realisation slowly dawning on his face.

“What if we record her, place a device near the table, a camera maybe, a tape recorder?”

“Oh,” said Marcus, and he sat back, steepled his fingers and looked at Abby. “Genius.”

“I try,” said Abby with a grin.

“How are we going to get it there, though?”

“Lincoln will do it for us.”

Marcus grimaced. Abby knew he wasn’t a fan of her friend though she wasn’t sure why. “Can we trust him?” he said.

“Yes!” said Abby, slightly put out at Marcus’s inference. “He’s been a good friend to me.”

“Yes, I know. Sorry.”

“He said he’s working all week. He’ll help us, Marcus, I know he will.”

Marcus sat up straight. “We’ll need equipment. Does the shop have CCTV?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Call him, find out.”

“I can’t just call him and ask him something like that.” Abby brought the coffee shop to her mind. She couldn’t remember seeing any obvious cameras, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any.

“We don’t have much time. Let’s assume there isn’t and be completely prepared. I need my laptop.” Marcus went into the living room and came back with his computer. “It has to be something we can get in Arkadia Falls. There’s no time to have something shipped from Minneapolis.” He opened the lid and was soon engrossed in his search.

Abby cleared the breakfast things away, played with Clarke. Half an hour later Marcus called her into the dining room to show her what he’d found.

“There’s a camera here we can hide next to a light fitting. It’s really small so they’ll never notice it. there’s a voice recorder that isn’t much bigger than a paperclip. Check it out.” He showed the screen to Abby and there was a small black object that looked like a battery. “Lincoln could tape this underneath their table and record their conversation.”

Abby was amazed at what was available to spy on people. Who the hell bought and used these things? People like them, she guessed, or private investigators who needed information. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

“How will we know which table they’re going to sit at?”

“I imagine they’ll sit where they did last time or near there because it’s the quieter part of the coffee shop. We’d probably have to buy a couple of them. Put one where we think they’ll sit and then if they don’t sit there Lincoln can attach it when he brings their order. I’d rather he didn’t have to do that, but it’s an option.”

“This is all so underhand, Marcus,” said Abby who was starting to realise the enormity of what they were going to do.

“Not as underhand as what she’s been doing. You have to fight fire with fire.”

“I know. I know we have to do it. I just never in my life thought I would be doing something like this.”

“Callie did it to you. You rose above that and your generous heart is one of the reasons why I love you, but everything is at stake here.” Marcus put his hand on hers, squeezed it.

“You can get all this in Arkadia Falls?”

“Yes. I’m on the website of a local store.”

“Okay.” Abby pulled on her bottom lip as she thought everything through. There were risks involved, especially if they were caught, but what else could they do? This was the best chance they had to get ammunition for the fight. If they could catch Callie and Rebecca conspiring against them then that could mean the end of the court case, and maybe the end of Rebecca and her hold over them. “You’d better place the order,” she said.

“I’ll call them. Are you able to go and pick everything up? I don’t want to be seen.”

“Definitely, and if you show me what to do with them I’ll take them to Lincoln. We only have a few hours left today, and we don’t know what time they’ll meet tomorrow. We’ll need to be ready.”

“I’m on it.” Marcus kissed her then picked up his phone to call the store.

Two hours later and Abby was on her way to the coffee shop, the spyware tucked into her bag. She hadn’t needed Marcus to show her what to do in the end; the camera and voice recorder were straightforward. Any idiot could record anything they wanted without needing more than half a brain. It scared Abby to think about what people did with them, where these cameras could be hidden, so she pushed it out of her mind.

The coffee shop was full of students, and noisy. Marcus’s old table was free and Abby put her coat and her bag of tricks on it before joining the long line at the counter. Louisa was serving, which was disappointing. Lincoln had said he would be here all week.

Louisa greeted Abby with a warm smile when it was finally her turn to be served.

“What can I do for you, Mrs Griffin?” she said.

“I’ll have a flat white, please. I thought Lincoln was on shift today. Is he in?”

“He’s on his break. Should be back in about five minutes.” Louisa moved to the coffee machine, started preparing Abby’s order. “It can’t come soon enough.”

“You’re busy today.”

“Yeah. The students have finals coming up so they’re mainlining coffee to keep awake.”

“Of course, yes.” Abby felt as far removed from her teaching days as it was possible to be; had forgotten about terms and papers and nervous students.

“I’ll bring your coffee over, Mrs Griffin. No baby today?”

“She’s with a friend. Thank you.”

Abby sat at Marcus’s table and looked around the room. Her gaze rested on the corner table where she used to sit. It was strange to see it through Marcus’s eyes. She could picture herself sitting there, nursing her one coffee all morning, writing and playing with Clarke. No wonder he’d been curious about her. She smiled, then she put her hand on the bag containing the spy equipment. She hadn’t known back then that she’d end up madly in love with the funeral director in the dark suit, engaged to him, spending the rest of her life with him, and she certainly hadn’t known she’d be back here one day, planning to spy on her former friend, and his ex-wife.

She jumped when the coffee cup was set down next to her arm.

“Sorry I startled you,” said Louisa.

“No, it’s okay. I was miles away.”

“Lincoln’s back. Would you like to see him now?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. I promise I won’t keep him too long.”

Louisa disappeared and a minute later Lincoln arrived with a bright smile. He fastened his apron around his waist then sat down next to Abby.

“Hey. Louisa said you wanted to see me. Everything okay?”

“Yes. Well, no. I need your help with something.”

“Okay.” Lincoln leaned forward in his seat, put his elbows on the table. “Anything for you.”

Abby took a deep breath. She’d convinced Marcus that Lincoln would help them but now she was sat in front of him she wasn’t so sure. It was a big ask, illegal maybe. She didn’t know if he would want to do it, or if he could. He didn’t own the coffee shop after all.”

Lincoln frowned when she hadn’t spoken. “What is it?” he said in a soft voice.

“It’s Marcus,” she said. “He’s...

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing. I, erm. I didn’t quite tell you the truth when I last saw you. We haven’t split up. It’s just for show.”

“What?”

Lincoln looked as puzzled as Abby had thought he would at her confession. She told him the whole story as quickly as she could, aware that Louisa was on her own with a long line and feeling bad for letting her manage it alone.

“You want me to spy on them?” whispered Lincoln when she’d finished the sorry tale.

“Just place the devices. Marcus and I will do the rest.”

“What are they exactly?”

Abby looked around before opening the bag to show Lincoln the boxes containing the equipment Marcus had ordered. “I can show you how they work, but not here.”

Lincoln looked at the bag, then over at Louisa. “Okay, I’ll help you, but I can’t right now. Louisa needs me.”

“I’ll wait,” said Abby, grateful that Lincoln had agreed. She put her hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

She called Marcus to update him on her conversation with Lincoln and then took out her laptop to look over some revisions her editor had suggested for The Cabin at Cloud River. It was a couple of hours before the shop went quiet and Lincoln was finally able to return.

“Come upstairs,” he said. “It’s the only private place.”

Abby looked at Louisa who was looking at them. “Won’t Louisa think it’s strange?”

“She’ll be fine. We can trust her.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Lincoln,” said Abby, alarmed at the idea of bringing someone else into the plan.

“She’ll help you.” Lincoln picked up Abby’s bag and carried it towards a door marked Private at the back of the room. “She has a crush on you,” he said, and Abby could see his grin as he pushed open the door and led her through.

“She has a crush? She calls me Mrs Griffin!” Abby was more than surprised at this news.

“I know.” Lincoln laughed. “She’s too in awe of you to call you your name.”

He took the stairs two at a time and Abby followed more slowly, shaking her head at this revelation. The girl barely said two words to her. She tried to think if she’d noticed her looking at her more than was necessary but realised that she’d barely given her a second thought once she’d been served. She felt ashamed, and then she thought about how her romance with Marcus had blossomed in the coffee shop. What must that have been like to witness if you had a crush on one of the people?

“Don’t worry,” said Lincoln as he showed Abby into an office crammed with boxes of supplies and battered filing cabinets. “It’s nothing serious.”

“I’m just surprised,” said Abby, perching gingerly on the edge of a chair that was piled with papers. “I didn’t notice any signs of it.”

“Well, you wouldn’t. You only had eyes for Mr Big Shot.”

“I did not!”

“Yeah, you did. I used to stand at the counter some days and watch the pair of you. He’d pretend to type but he’d be looking at you, watching you, then as soon as you started to lift your head he’d go back to typing. Then you’d sit sucking your pen and looking at him. I knew it was only a matter of time.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t want to encourage it. I didn’t think he was good enough for you.”

That comment made Abby laugh. “Why on earth not?”

“I don’t know. I found him cold and unfriendly. For months he came in here, never said a word other than to place his order. First time he strings more than a few words together it’s to ask about you!”

Abby smiled at Lincoln’s characterisation of Marcus, which wasn’t too dissimilar to her own before she got to know him.

“I can assure you he’s a wonderful, loving man, and a fantastic father to Clarke. He’s just... he’s not very forthcoming until you get to know him, but he makes me really happy.”

“Well, I guess that’s all that matters.” Lincoln patted Abby’s hand. “Are you going to show me how to become a spy then?”

“I’m really grateful to you, you know that.”

“I know. Let’s do this.”

\---

Kane held the phone in his hand and looked at it. He and Abby had decided his mother should know the truth, because it was all going to come out in the court anyway, and she’d left him five voicemails since yesterday asking if he was with Abby. She must have figured out the cryptic note he’d left her.

He called up her number, took a deep breath and hit the button.

“Marcus!” Vera said by way of answering. “Where are you?”

“I’m in Arkadia Falls.”

“I KNEW it! What’s going on? I came home yesterday to a note. A note, Marcus! One I couldn’t understand. And I called and called. I left you dozens of voicemails. Nothing from you in return!”

“I’m with Abby and Clarke,” Kane said when she finally drew breath.

“Are you making things right with her?”

“They were never wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Kane took a sip of his coffee, then leant back against the sofa. “I never broke up with her. I never left them, well physically I did obviously, but not in my heart. It was a ruse to fool Rebecca.”

“Oh, I knew you would never do that, Marcus,” Vera said, relief in her voice. “I couldn’t believe it of you. You’re my son, and I’ll always support you no matter how much of an idiot you are, but this was a struggle for me. You gave Abby and Clarke hope and then you took it away. I thought I didn’t know you.”

“I know, and as funny as this probably sounds, I was grateful that you were so angry with me, that you cared for Abby enough to stop speaking to me.”

“Of course I care for her! I love her and Clarke. I may not show these things often but I do.”

“I know. I know you do.”

“Why did you do it, Marcus? What did Rebecca say to you? I knew there was something. It was so strange that you go and see her and the next minute you’d left Abby. But you denied it to my face, lied so boldly.”

“I had to.” Kane spent the next half hour explaining everything that had happened to his mother, telling her about their plan to trap Rebecca and Callie. It was draining, and at times he wished he’d never called her, but it had to be done. It was wrong to keep her in the dark, to prolong her sadness.

“You’ve upset a lot of people with this, Marcus,” said Vera just as he thought they’d exhausted the topic. “Me, your uncle Martin, everyone at Kane and Co. Miss Reyes is talking about leaving.”

“I’ll speak to Raven,” he said wearily.

“I think it will be better coming from me initially. She won’t even hear your name mentioned.”

“I’m aware,” said Kane, who had endured a week of Raven’s non-verbal hostility.

“I think we should come up there,” Vera said, surprising Kane.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. What for?”

“To support you and Abby at this court case. Rebecca needs to see you have people on your side.”

“We don’t know if we’re going to get anything useful from the recordings yet, or it they’ll even go to the coffee shop for sure.”

“Nevertheless, I think I should come up. I’ll bring Martin.”

“Let me talk to Abby first. It’s her case; it should be her decision.”

Vera’s sigh was heavy. “Very well, but you ring me, Marcus. Don’t wait until you think it’s too late for me to get up there, because I’ll drive through the damned night if I have to.”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll ring you. As soon as we know anything I promise I’ll call you.”

“Good.” There was silence for a moment. Kane took a breath, ready to say goodbye when Vera spoke again.

“I love you, son. I knew you weren’t that kind of man.”

“I love you,” said Kane, moved by her words. “I’m sorry I gave you even a moment of doubt.”

“It’s done now. It will work out for the best; I know it will.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Kane ended the conversation and looked at the time. Four o’clock, and no sign of Abby. The shop must be busy. He was preparing Clarke’s dinner when she finally came home.

“Hi,” she said, putting her arms around him as he stood at the stove. She kissed the back of his neck, causing the hairs to stand up.

“Mmm. Hi.” He turned so he could put his arms around her and kiss her properly. “How did it go?”

“Fine. Lincoln’s going to install the cameras when the shop closes and he’ll call me once it’s done so we can check they work.”

“And the recorders?”

“He’s going to attach that at the table tomorrow. It’s the simplest way. We don’t know for sure where they’ll sit. The cameras will cover most of the shop but the recorders are useless if they’re not close.”

“I called my mom before,” said Kane as he spooned rice and beans into Clarke’s bowl.

“My brave soldier,” said Abby, smiling at him.

“It wasn’t too bad. She wants to come up here though to support you at the court appearance.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Let’s wait and see what we get from the recorders.”

“I said that too.”

“Great minds think alike.” Abby kissed him, then she headed towards Clarke’s bedroom. “Time for dinner, Clarke,” she shouted. Kane smiled, and finished serving their daughter’s food.

Clarke was in bed and Kane was curled up on the sofa with Abby watching a movie when her phone rang.

“It’s Lincoln,” she said.

They both sat up and Abby answered the call, putting the phone on speaker so Kane could hear as well.

“Hi. Everything okay?”

“I think so,” said Lincoln. “I put one camera over the table where they sat last time and I’ll try to keep that free tomorrow somehow. The other camera is further along. I think we’ve got two thirds of the shop covered. If they sit in the other third then we’re screwed.”

“I’m pretty sure they won’t want to sit near the counter. There’s too much risk of being overheard.”

“I agree. They’ll go back to where they were last time.”

“I appreciate you doing this, Lincoln,” said Kane.

“I’d do anything for Abby,” the barista said.

Kane bristled at the subtle dismissal of him. Abby put her hand on his knee.

“We’re both really grateful,” she said.

“Do you want to check if it’s working? You can log into the feed, right?”

“We should be able to,” replied Kane, swallowing his pride. “Give me a second.” He got his laptop, opened it and clicked the app he’d installed when Abby had come home with the equipment. Abby sat next to him, her warm hand gripping his leg. Kane brought up the first camera and Lincoln came into view, sitting at the table, staring up at the ceiling.

“Wave!” said Abby, and he waved at her. “We can see you.”

Kane switched to the other camera and Louisa’s red hair was visible. She wasn’t looking at the camera.

“I can see Louisa as well,” said Abby.

Lincoln relayed this information to Louisa and she looked up at the camera and waved shyly.

“Looks like it’s all working,” said Kane. “Thank you both.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow when they’re in and I’ve got the recorder in place.”

“Be careful, Lincoln,” said Abby.

“I will. It will be fine. I’ll get you what you need.”

“Thank you.” Abby ended the call and sat staring at her phone.

Kane closed the app and shut his laptop. “I guess all we can do now is wait.”

“This is going to be the hardest thing.”

“We can always do something to take our minds off it.”

“Such as?” said Abby, grinning because she knew exactly what he meant.

“Well,” said Kane. “We had nine days without each other. There’s still catching up to do, things I may have forgotten about you.”

“You’ve reminded yourself of how I smell and taste. What else is there?” Abby started to unbutton her blouse slowly, revealing only glimpses of her soft flesh.

“There’s that noise you make when I touch you in a certain place. I haven’t heard that since I got back.”

“You want to make me make that noise?” She stood, her blouse gaping open but still tucked into her jeans so he only got a glimpse of bra and cleavage, and held out her hand to him.

Kane took it, let her pull him to his feet. “I want to try, yes.”

“It takes a lot of work,” she whispered, bring him in so he was flat against her.

“We have the time.” He lifted her, causing her to cry out in surprise, then carried her to the bedroom, depositing her on the bed so her hair fanned out against the pillow, and her breasts heaved in anticipation.

“Let’s see what you’ve got then,” said Abby, smiling as she unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby put their plan into action. Will they get the result they want?

While Abby sat at the front table in conference with Russell her lawyer, Kane looked around the courtroom, alarmed to see how many people were packed into the small space. This was Abby’s private business, not a spectacle for people to gawk at and gossip over. He sincerely hoped they were here to support her, not looking for salacious gossip about her life and the father of her child. He didn’t recognise most of them, having never bothered to get to know anyone else in the town unless he was dealing with them in a business capacity or they knew Abby, so he didn’t know if they were friend or foe.

At the back of the room his mother sat next to his uncle Martin and Raven. They nodded at him when his eyes rested on them. Raven gave him a small smile. She still wasn’t speaking much to him, this time because of his subterfuge over his relationship with Abby, but the hostility he’d suffered for the last two weeks had gone. Kane nodded at them in return. A few seats further along Lincoln sat with Louisa. Kane hadn’t thought they should come, but they’d both wanted to and Abby had insisted it was okay. Kane wasn’t so sure; what they’d all done skirted the edge of legality, and he didn’t want them implicated if it all went wrong. He’d already decided to shoulder all the blame should the police get involved.

He turned back to the front just as Abby looked around for him. She leaned over the back of her chair and Kane moved towards her so their heads were almost touching.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Hi.” Kane put his hand on her face, stroked her cheek with his thumb. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he felt as though all eyes in the courtroom were on him. It was unnerving, but he put it to the back of his mind. Their relationship was no longer a secret, so there was no need to hide. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous, and a little sick.”

Kane looked at her closely. She was pale, and her skin was clammy to his touch. “Are you coming down with something?”

“I don’t think so. I’m just scared.”

Kane took her hand and kissed the back of it. “You’ve got this. You’re strong, remember. Stronger than everyone here. There’s nothing you can’t do.”

“I know. As long as I have you by my side.”

“You don’t need me, but you know I’m here for you. Always. If you need to, just look at me, talk to me. Forget everyone else.”

“Okay.”

Across the courtroom, Kane saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked across. Callie was staring at them, her brow furrowed. Abby followed Kane’s gaze. Her hand gripped his tighter.

“Marcus,” said Abby, a tremor in her voice.

“You can do this,” said Kane, turning away from Callie’s hard stare. He knew what Abby was thinking, that she didn’t want to hurt Callie. “She has put us in this situation. Remember that.”

“I know. I do.”

“I love you. I’m with you. You’re not alone.”

Abby smiled, put her hand to his face, looked at him with such love Kane’s heart thumped in his chest. “I know. I love...” The door to the courtroom banged causing Abby to look up. Her face paled even more and she took a sharp breath.

Kane turned to see what had caused this reaction.

Rebecca.

Here. In the courtroom. Kane had expected she would want to witness her triumph over him, but as time went on and she hadn’t appeared, he’d assumed she wasn’t coming. It was a surprise then, to see her, and she still made his hands sweaty and his heart race.

She was wearing a bright red dress and red lipstick, and with her long black hair she made for a striking figure as she posed inside the doorway. She looked at Kane and Abby and smiled. She obviously wasn’t surprised to see them together. Then she looked around, and her smile faded when she saw Vera, Martin and Raven, who were glaring at her. She recovered her composure quickly, though, and strode down the aisle of the gallery confidently. She raised an eyebrow at Kane, smirked.

Kane managed to plaster a shocked expression to his face, which he was sure she wanted to see. He put his head closer to Abby’s as though they were whispering. Rebecca took a seat behind Callie and did the same.

“Game on,” said Kane to Abby.

“Oh, God!” she said, shielding their faces with her hand so nobody else in the courtroom could see their conversation.

“This is for Jake. And Clarke. And for you.” Kane kissed her, and then the judge entered, and they all had to stand.

\---

“Are we ready to proceed?” said the judge, and the lawyers Russell and Locke replied to the affirmative. “Please retake the stand, Mrs Griffin.”

Abby stood and walked confidently to the witness box. She took her seat, put her hands on the rail, and stared defiantly at Callie’s lawyer, Locke. Inside she felt sick, and she could feel beads of sweat gathering on her lip, even thought it was cool in the room. She’d told Marcus it was nerves, but she wasn’t sure. There was flu going around, and she hoped she wasn’t getting it.

“When we were last in this courtroom there was a dispute as to the paternity of the child,” said the judge.

“There was no dispute from me,” replied Abby, fixing him with the same stare.

A smile tugged at the edge of the judge’s lips. “No. Did you receive the results of the DNA test, Mr Locke?”

“We did, Your Honour.”

“And?” The judge tapped on the bench with his fingers.

“And Jake Griffin is the father of the child.”

“You accept these results?”

“We do, Your Honour.”

“Waste of time,” said Abby, making no attempt to hide her words.

“In this courtroom we deal only in facts, Mrs Griffin,” said the judge. “Now we have them, there can be no doubt.”

“You’re right. I apologise.”

“Your Honour, the fact that Clarke Griffin is Jake’s child doesn’t alter our contention that Jake was questioning the paternity on the night of the accident and that he was distracted and that caused the accident.”

Russell stood, leant his hands on the table. “Your Honour, the child IS Jake’s, and anything else is pure conjecture on behalf of the plaintive. Mr Locke was not in the car with Mr and Mrs Griffin on the night in question, neither was Mrs Cartwig, Mr Kane or his ex-wife. Only Mrs Griffin knows the facts, and she has told them already to this court.”

“Do you have any questions for Mrs Griffin, Mr Locke?”

“I do, Your Honour,” he said, and Abby took a deep breath and braced herself. She looked around the room, saw Vera and Raven looking at her with warm smiles. Lincoln and Louisa were here! She hadn’t noticed them arrive. The fact they’d come to support her caused a lump to rise in Abby’s throat. Finally, her eyes rested on Marcus, who was leaning forward in his seat, his eyes fixed on her. He nodded to encourage her.

“Mrs Griffin, as you know I have a sworn affidavit here from Ms King, the former wife of your lover, Marcus Kane, stating that rather than having only recently met, you had in fact been having an affair for what is now three years.” He looked poignantly at Abby.

“Is there a question?” Abby said.

“There is. Do you continue to deny this?”

“I do. It’s a fabrication.”

“You deny staying at the Hilton in Minneapolis with Mr Kane on the following dates?” Locke read out a long list of dates that had no meaning to Abby.

“I have never stayed at the Hilton with Mr Kane or anybody.”

“I draw your attention to these receipts. Is this not your signature?” Locked showed her a sheaf of photocopies of receipts from the hotel, many of them with a signature that looked remarkably like hers, others in Marcus’s neat hand.

“No. They are forgeries. I didn’t know Mr Kane back then. I was a teacher. I couldn’t have afforded to pay for a room at the Hilton.”

“I put it to you that your husband found copies of these receipts and confronted you with them.”

“No.”

“He confronted you, you went into labour and he drove you to the hospital, arguing with you, questioning how long this had been going on, who was the father of your baby?”

“I’ve already said that none of this is true. I wasn’t having an affair; we planned our baby, were looking forward to meeting her.”

“In her statement, Ms King says she caught you and Mr Kane together in their house in Saint Paul as recently as February last year, and that she divorced Mr Kane as a result.”

“Where is the question?” said Russell, with exasperation in his voice.

“Do you deny this?” said Locke, looking at Abby.

It was amazing to Abby what Rebecca was prepared to do and say to humiliate her and Marcus. She would never have believed until now that just saying something could have such an effect, even when it wasn’t true. You just had to be convincing, and it was hard to argue it. When there were no true facts to discuss, it came down to her word against Abby’s.

“Of course I deny it. I’ve never been to his house in Saint Paul. I didn’t know him in February last year. I didn’t know Rebecca King existed until this Christmas when Marcus told me what she had done to him.”

“Thank you, Mrs Griffin,” said Locke, obviously keen to gloss over the last part of Abby’s statement, but Abby wasn’t going to be deterred.

“She admitted she married him to gain his business, Kane and Co. A journalist was looking into it. It’s all documented,” she said, her words tumbling out because she wanted to say as much as she could before the judge shut her down.

There was a gasp from the people in the courtroom at Abby’s words. She looked around at them and nodded to emphasise her point.

“Thank you, Mrs Griffin, that will be all.” Locke sat down and Abby turned to look at the judge.

“Do you have any further questions for the witness, Mr Locke?”

“No, Your Honour.”

The judge looked at Russell. “Would you like to question your witness in the light of these allegations?”

“No, Your Honour. We would like to call Rebecca King to the stand.”

Murmurs of surprise from the crowd. Abby looked at Rebecca who was looking at Callie and Locke. Her expression was neutral but Abby knew she must be wondering why they would call her, although knowing her she would have expected it, was looking forward to her moment in the sun perhaps.

“Objection, Your Honour,” said Locke. “Ms King is not on the witness list.”

“You have introduced her yourself by admitting her statements into evidence. We have a right to cross examine her.”

“Objection overruled. Thank you, Mrs Griffin. You are excused,” said the judge.

Abby retook her seat. Marcus put his hand on her shoulder. “You were great,” he whispered.

“Thanks. Now the fun begins,” Abby said quietly.

Rebecca took her seat in the stand, crossing her long legs, smoothing the bodice of her red dress demurely although the effect was to push her breasts closer together, make them stand out. Abby resisted the urge to roll her eyes. There were probably some people in the gallery enjoying the view, but the judge and Russell seemed unmoved.

“Can you state your name and occupation for the court, please,” said Russell, remaining seated at his desk while he addressed Rebecca.

“Rebecca King. I’m a bookseller, or at least I was,” she said, looking at Marcus.

“You mean until you admitted defrauding Kane and Co Booksellers in a conspiracy with your father and lost your own business?”

“I deny that. I have never been arrested or prosecuted or subject to judicial process.”

“A journalist from the Midwest Financial Times has proof does he not, of your wrongdoing? Members of the board of Kane and Co were fired as a result.”

“They are unfounded allegations that have never been tested in court. My former husband simply wants me out of the way so he can be with her,” Rebecca said, sneering at Abby and Marcus.

“Unfounded allegations like the ones you have made against my client, Abby Griffin.” Russell ignored Rebecca’s comment about Marcus.

“Those are not unfounded. I have proof. Receipts, the evidence of my own eyes.”

“Does Mr Russell have a question, Your Honour?” said Locke in a tired voice.

“I do,” said Russell, smiling politely at Locke. “Now, Ms King. You have sworn in a statement and now in this courtroom that my client, Abby Griffin, and your former husband, Marcus Kane, have been having an affair for three years, is that correct?”

“It is, yes.”

“You have caught them together in bed and you have receipts from their hotel trysts in Minneapolis?”

“Yes. There were other things, though, things it is hard to find proof of.” Rebecca stared at Russell, as though challenging him to dare ask her.

He did dare. “Please elaborate for the court.”

“Oh. Yes.” Rebecca coughed delicately. “Well. Marcus would answer phone calls then disappear into another room and shut the door. He would go away on business trips that lasted longer than they were supposed to. Sometimes I could smell another woman’s perfume on him. He became too tired to make love, when we’d always been very active in that department.” She looked at Abby, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Abby smiled back to show she wasn’t bothered. There was nothing wrong with Marcus enjoying sex with other people before he’d met her, even if one of them was this awful woman. She and Jake had had a good sex life. It didn’t diminish what she and Marcus had together now, which was unique to them.

“Your Honour, how is this relevant to the case we are here to discuss, that of the car crash Jake Griffin was responsible for?” Locke stood, sighed dramatically.

“You introduced this subject yourself at the last hearing, Mr Locke. You must suffer the consequences,” said the judge, unmoved.

“Thank you, Your Honour,” said Russell. “If what you are saying is indeed true then the court would have a lot of sympathy for you, Ms King. A lying, cheating husband who has tried to swindle you out of your divorce settlement, slander your good name in the business world. A terrible affair all round, so to speak.”

“Yes,” said Rebecca, slowly.

Was she realising now that they had something up their sleeve? Was she starting to worry? Abby looked round at Marcus. His face would seem expressionless to all eyes except hers. One eye twitched slightly in a reassuring wink. Abby gave the smallest of nods in return, then turned back to watch Rebecca.

“You are not somebody who would lie in court, Ms King, are you?”

“No.”

“You are not somebody who would fabricate evidence in order to help somebody else win a court case?”

“Definitely not.” Rebecca glanced over at Callie’s table. Callie was sitting up straighter, looking from Rebecca to Abby and Marcus and then to her lawyer.

“If somebody else asked you or enticed you to lie in order to help them win a court case you would not conspire with them, would you?”

Rebecca coughed again, shifted in her seat. “I would not.”

“Were you in Eden Coffee, Arkadia Falls on twenty-seventh April this year?”

Rebecca took a sharp breath and then tried to hide it by coughing again. “Excuse me?”

“The question was perfectly clear.” Russell sat back in his chair, looking as though he was relaxing on a beach somewhere and not in the middle of a court case.

Abby was far from relaxed. This was what they’d been waiting for, and so far everything was going to plan. Rebecca was flummoxed; she clearly hadn’t been expecting to get caught.

“I, erm, yes I was in the coffee shop around that time.”

“What were you doing?”

“Having coffee.”

“Are there not enough coffee shops in the Twin Cities?” said Russell causing the spectators in the gallery to laugh. 

“I was looking for my ex-husband.”

“I see. Were you also in Eden Coffee yesterday?”

“I was, yes,” said Rebecca, her high girlish voice now soft and low.

“Did you meet with the plaintive, Mrs Callie Cartwig?”

“I did.”

“During that meeting, did you discuss how you had fabricated evidence against my client and your former husband?”

A gasp flowed through the spectators like a Mexican wave. Abby looked at Callie who was looking at her. Her face was white now, her eyes dark and downcast. She knew what was coming, Abby could tell. Sympathy tugged at Abby’s heart. She had never wanted this for Callie, had only ever wanted to comfort her friend, be together in their grief for their husbands, but Callie had brought them to this. There was no alternative.

“Of course not,” said Rebecca. “We talked about the court case, naturally. We have become friends in the face of a common enemy.” She sat up straighter, stuck her chin out defiantly.

“At no point did you tell Mrs Cartwig that your source had created false receipts and forged signatures to show Mr Kane and Mrs Griffin had rendezvoused in various hotels together over a number of years?”

Rebecca swallowed hard. “No,” she said quietly.

“You didn’t say that you could have manipulated photos of the pair available if things did not go well with the court case today?”

“I don’t recall saying any such thing.”

“You’re sure?”

Rebecca nodded. “Yes.” She looked around the courtroom, her eyes coming to rest in the far corner. Her face paled. Abby turned to see what she was looking at. It was Lincoln and Louisa. She smiled with satisfaction. Now Rebecca knew.

“I see.”

In the far corner of the room a television clicked on. Abby wanted to clap her hands with happiness as the image of Callie and Rebecca sitting at a table in the coffee shop came into view, but she remained composed. Behind her, she knew Marcus was using a remote control to operate a DVD they’d created of the camera and audio footage.

_“The DNA test was a blow,” Callie was saying._

_“It was never going to tell us anything other than her husband is the father,” said Rebecca. “Its purpose was to create doubt and suspicion and it did that amazingly well.”_

_“I suppose.”_

_“Don’t lose heart now; we’re nearly there.”_

_“I only ever wanted justice for Jason, not all this.” Callie put her head in her hands._

_Rebecca leaned across, pulled Callie’s hands away from her face. “You were on a hiding to nothing there. You could never prove her husband caused the accident with the evidence you had. This is the only way.”_

_“I know, I know. Yes.”_

In the courtroom there was another loud gasp from the gallery. Abby felt Marcus’s hand on her shoulder and she put her hand on top of his, held it there.

“Objection, Your Honour!” said Locke, jumping up from his seat. “This is not admissible.”

“I’d like to see where this is going.” The judge folded his arms on the desk and leaned forward.

_“I’ve got the receipts like I said over the phone. Bill has done a great job. Thanks for providing her signature.” Rebecca opened an envelope and took out a sheaf of papers, showed them to Callie. “They look great, right?”_

_“They are realistic. What if they check the hotels though? There won’t be records of their stays to match.”_

_“That doesn’t matter. The point of this isn’t to provide indisputable proof, it’s to create doubt as to her integrity, show her up as a cheat. We simply have to plant the suspicion in people’s minds that her husband found one of these receipts. That would give him a reason to argue with her. Easy to conclude it was him who caused your husband to swerve. That’s all we have to show. No one in Arkadia Falls is going to bother looking into this further.”_

_“Are you sure this will work?”_

_Rebecca put the papers back into the envelope, sat back and took a sip of her coffee. “Yes, and if it doesn’t, I can have photos done of them. It will look like they’ve been together ages. Bill is amazing; he’s done things for me before and I have to look twice even though I know they’re not real.”_

_“I just want this to be over.” Callie pushed her coffee away, sat slumped in her chair._

_“It will be soon. The public will be against her, and the judge is up for re-election. He’ll side with you, I guarantee it.”_

Marcus switched off the DVD and the courtroom was quiet for a moment before erupting into excited chatter. Rebecca remained poised but unsmiling in the witness box. Callie was slumped on the table, her head in her hands.

“Your Honour, I really must object,” said Locke. “How was this evidence obtained? We have had no opportunity to examine it beforehand.”

“I rather think that was the point, Mr Locke.” The judge frowned at the man then addressed Callie. “Do you have any comment on what we have seen, Mrs Cartwig?”

Callie slowly lifted her head. “No, Your Honour.”

“Then I think I have heard everything I need to hear in this case. In civil proceedings the burden of proof is less than in criminal cases. However, the rule of law still applies. You cannot find someone guilty solely on a belief that they are somehow to blame. You most certainly cannot find them guilty on the basis of fabricated evidence. I therefore rule that there is no case to answer.”

Time seemed to slow again for Abby as she listened to the judge’s words and the importance of them sank in. No case to answer. It was over. She took a deep breath and let out a cry. Marcus appeared at her side, knelt on the floor next to her and took her into his arms.

“You did it! You did it!” He held her tight, kissed her hair, then pulled back, took her face in his hands and kissed her cheeks and her lips. “You were amazing.”

“Oh, my God,” said Abby, when she finally found her voice. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his neck and cried.

The judge’s voice broke through her sobs. “Silence in court!” he shouted, and the hubbub of voices slowly died away.

Marcus stayed kneeling beside Abby, and she grasped his hand, unsure what the judge was going to say. Were they in trouble for recording Callie and Rebecca?

“There have been some very serious accusations slung around this courtroom during this case. I have ruled in the subject of Cartwig versus Griffin. However, I cannot ignore the other crimes that are alleged to have been committed. Mrs Cartwig and Ms King. I am ordering your arrest on suspicion of conspiracy to defraud, perjury and contempt of court. Officers from Arkadia Falls Police Department are waiting for you outside.” He beckoned to the bailiff who was standing next to the doors. Abby watched as four police officers entered the room.

“No!” cried Callie as two of them approached her and dragged her to her feet. “How can you do this to me?” she said to Abby as she was marched past her table.

“How could you do this to Abby?” said Marcus, standing and shielding Abby from Callie’s glare.

Abby stood, moved in front of him. “You gave me no choice,” she said sadly as Callie was led away.

Rebecca was silent as the police officers handcuffed her in the witness box. She glared at Marcus and Abby as she was led past them. She tried to move towards them, opened her mouth as though she was going to speak, but Marcus turned his back on her, and Abby did the same. Russell was smiling broadly, and Abby enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you so much!” she said. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“My heart was in my mouth most of the time I was questioning her,” he said, putting his hand to his chest.”

“I wouldn’t have known it. You were fantastic.”

When Abby turned around to catch her breath she saw Vera and Raven and a tall man who looked a lot like Vera standing behind them, smiling, talking happily to Marcus. Lincoln and Louisa were standing quietly behind them. Abby went to them.

“Thank you for coming, and for everything you did. I’m grateful and I know Jake would be.” She hugged Lincoln and then Louisa, dropping a kiss on the girl’s cheek. She blushed.

“I’m so glad it worked,” said Lincoln. “I couldn’t believe how clear it was when I watched the footage.”

“And how brazen that Rebecca was,” said Louisa. “I’m pleased for you, Mrs Griffin.”

“Are you ever going to call me Abby?”

Louisa smiled shyly.

“Are we having a celebration?” said Lincoln.

“I don’t know,” said Abby, looking towards Marcus who was being crushed by his mother’s bear hug. “I didn’t dare think we would be successful.”

“Come back to the coffee shop. Flat whites all round.”

Abby grinned. “Okay. I need to collect Clarke first but we’ll be there soon.”

“Abby!” shouted Raven, and Abby was enclosed in a fierce hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you. I’m still struggling to take it in.”

“It’s real. You can believe it.”

“I’m so glad you’re here, Raven. It means the world to me.”

“Wild horses wouldn’t stop me. I’d have been here two weeks ago if he who is still not being named had let me.”

“I’m sorry we had to lie to you. I never wanted any of this.” A tear rolled down Abby’s cheek and she wiped it away.

“Hey, I know. It’s okay. I totally understand why you had to do it. I’ll probably even speak to his lordship one day.”

“Damn,” said Marcus, putting his arm around Abby. “I’ve been enjoying the peace and quiet.”

Raven gave him a sarcastic smile.

“Abby, this is my Uncle Martin,” said Marcus, introducing her to the man who was like a stretched-out version of Vera.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you at last, Abby. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Don’t listen to everything my mother says,” said Marcus.

“You could do a lot worse for a mother, Marcus,” said Vera.

“I know.”

“Abby, dear.” Vera put her arm around Abby, so she was squashed between mother and son. “I know this must be bittersweet for you, but I’m pleased that it’s worked out, that your husband’s name has been cleared.”

Vera’s insightful words overwhelmed Abby, and she sobbed again. Vera pushed Marcus’s arm away, brought Abby into her bosom and hugged the tears out of her.

It wasn’t until they were out in the hallway half an hour later that Abby finally got a moment alone with Marcus.

“Hey, you,” he said, kissing her softly. “How do you feel?”

“Happy. Sad. Relieved. It’s been a day.”

“It has, but you got through it. God, I was so proud of you up there. Such a strong, beautiful woman I’m marrying.” He held her hand, rubbed his thumb over the place where her ring should be. She hadn’t worn it today of course. It wouldn’t have felt right.

“I’m not ready to tell people today,” Abby said.

“God no. This is your day. Yours and Jake’s.”

“It’s our day. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You wouldn’t have had to without me.”

“Marcus.” Abby put her hand on his chest. “None of that matters now. It never mattered. Oh, God.” She put her hand to her mouth.

“What? What is it?” Marcus looked at her with concern.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Abby ran down the hallway, frantically looking for the restroom. She made it to a stall with seconds to spare.

Marcus was waiting outside the door when she came out.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“It’s probably just the relief. I’ve held a lot in, you know, a lot of stress.”

“I know you have. I’m keeping an eye on you, though. Can’t have my girl getting sick.” Marcus put his arm around Abby and she put hers around his waist. They walked out of the courtroom together into the crisp spring air.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby receive some news that could turn their world upside down.

Two days later Kane was working in his study when Abby returned from seeing her doctor. It was a regular checkup she had as a result of her accident, but he’d urged her to tell him about her sickness, because she had been unwell since the end of the court case, and Clarke was also sniffling. He didn’t want them coming down with flu.

Abby didn’t come directly to see him, so he left his study and found her unpacking bags in the kitchen.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Hi. How was the doctor?”

“Fine. Clarke’s got a cold but I’ve picked up some Tylenol so hopefully that will shift it.”

“Oh, dear. Have you got a cold, sweetheart?” Kane said, picking Clarke up and kissing her face. “She is warm,” he said to Abby.

“She’ll be fine.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine. I got the all-clear.” She gave him a kiss and then kissed Clarke. “Can you look after her for a while? I’m making us a special dinner.”

“A special dinner?” Kane bounced Clarke up and down in his arms. “What are we having?”

“Coscia di agnello.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? That takes hours.” Abby had never made slow cooked lamb shank before. It was complicated and time-consuming. What had got into her?

Abby shrugged. “I’ve got time.”

“What have I done to deserve this?”

She kissed him again. “Nothing. I just felt like treating you. Now go and entertain our daughter.”

\---

Five hours later, Kane sat back in his chair at the dining table, put his hands on his belly, and smiled with satisfaction. “That was amazing.”

“I can tell you enjoyed it,” said Abby, looking at his empty plate.

“I think you should tell me what I’ve done to deserve it, so I can make sure I do it again and again.”

“I suppose I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

“Lots of things.” She pushed her own plate to one side. She’d had a much smaller portion than Kane and hadn’t eaten all of it. Kane eyed up her plate but decided finishing her meal as well as his was too greedy even for him.

“Such as?”

“Everything you’ve done for me regarding the court case, how understanding you’ve been about Jake and all of that.”

“Hey, I would do anything for you, you know that.”

“I know. You’re wonderful.” She looked at him lovingly and Kane’s heart flipped. He hoped he’d never stop getting this feeling under her gaze.

“I’m glad it’s over for you, but I want you to know you don’t have to stop mentioning Jake or talking about him. He’s part of this family.”

“I know. I don’t want to talk about that right now, though.”

“Okay.” Kane looked her over. She’d made an extra effort and dressed for dinner, and looked lovely in her cream satin blouse, her hair soft and curled and falling onto her breasts which were tantalizingly on view as always. She still seemed pale, though, and he realised she hadn’t told him what the doctor had said about her sickness. “What...”

“Sitting in the doctor’s surgery today reminded me of something,” said Abby, interrupting Kane.

“Oh, yes? What was that?”

“You remember when we were sat in your consultant’s office, waiting to see him?”

“Seems like a long time ago.”

“Not that long.” Abby smiled. “You said you’d like a child of your own one day.”

“I said it would be nice, yes, one day.” Kane looked closely again at Abby. She was doing as good a job of keeping her face straight as he did when he was doing business with someone, not giving her thoughts away. What was this leading to? Did she want to start trying for a baby now the stress of the court case was over? His heart rate increased. Did he want this? Were they ready?

“Well, sometime around the fifth of December that wish is going to come true.” She sat back, regarded him with her warm brown eyes. They were twinkling now.

“What do you mean?”

She laughed softly. “We’re having a baby. You’re going to be a father.”

Kane stared at her, unable to fully take in what she was saying. He’d expected her to ask if he wanted to try, and here she was saying it was already happening. How? “I... We were so careful!”

“Not that careful. We didn’t use contraception for two weeks!”

“I pulled out!”

“My mother had a Catholic friend who relied on that method of birth control. She had six children.” Abby grinned. “Anyway, it was after that, when I went on the pill. I mustn’t have taken it properly, or it failed. What do you think about it?”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Well, it’s happening. I’m eight weeks; the doctor told me today.”

Kane felt like he was in a dream, and everything was misty and he was unable to think clearly. Abby was pregnant! He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He stood, looked at her. There were things he should be doing, saying, but he was tongue-tied. Abby came towards him, took his hand.

“It’s a shock, I know. I felt that way in the doctor’s office.” Her brow creased when she looked up at him, and her concerned look finally kicked Kane into life.

“It’s amazing,” he said. “Fantastic! I just… I wasn’t expecting it.” He pulled her into his arms, wrapped her tightly in his embrace. “Thank you,” he said. He held her face in his hands, kissed her lips, bringing a soft moan to them.

“It wasn’t just me,” she said when they parted. “You played your part.”

“Yes,” said Kane, grinning. “I guess my little guys are determined.”

“Diligent,” said Abby with a smirk.

Kane laughed and pulled her to him again. “God, I love you,” he said. “There’s no one like you.”

“I love you too. So, you’re happy then?”

“I’m more than happy. Are you? You said you didn’t want one yet.”

“In an ideal world we would have waited, but he or she obviously wanted to be here, and yeah, I’m really happy.”

“This is why you’ve been sick! Didn’t you realise?”

“I put it down to the stress of Rebecca and the court case, and the bug that’s going around. Maybe deep down something was nagging at me, but I didn’t want to hear that voice. There was too much else going on.” She laid her head on his chest and they stood there in the dining room, holding each other.

“Shall we move to the living room, get comfy?” said Kane. He took Abby’s hand and they settled into the sofa. Abby lay with her head on Kane’s lap and he stroked her hair.

“I’d given up on this ever happening before I met you,” he said, softly.

“I know. I remember that day we recced the river walk, and you were so down. I guessed what part of the problem was because of the way you were with Clarke.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“You did say the business would die with you.”

Kane groaned. “How dramatic of me.”

Abby looked up at him. “You were depressed.”

“Yeah. Not anymore, though.”

“Good.”

Kane slipped his hand beneath Abby’s shirt, rested it on her belly. It was as flat as ever. He tried to stay as still as possible, see if he could feel something. “There’s nothing there yet.”

“Not yet. It’s only the size of a raspberry.”

“Oh, wow!” The thought that they’d created a small human suddenly hit Kane. It was inside her, growing, slowly turning into a version of him or Abby or a mixture of both. He stroked her stomach, feeling the scars she’d got when Clarke was born. “Will it be dangerous for you having another child? You said in court you’d never be able to give birth naturally. I hadn’t realised the implications of your injuries until you said that.”

“That’s mainly because of the pelvic injuries I had. I’ll have to have another C-section. The scars shouldn’t be an issue.”

“They won’t, like, burst or anything?” Kane had visions of Abby’s stomach stretching and bursting like a popped balloon where she’d been stitched together.

He could feel her shoulders heaving while she tried to contain her laughter.

“Stop it!” he said, tickling her belly. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. I don’t think I will burst, no.”

“But you’ll check, just in case.”

“You can come with me to the next appointment and ask the nurse yourself.”

“Okay,” said Kane, aware that it was probably a ridiculous question, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt protective, of Abby and their baby, regardless of how small it was. “This is all new to me,” he said.

“This is new to me too.”

“You’ve had a baby before, though.”

“Not with you.” She put her hand on his where it lay on her belly. “This is our first time.”

Kane felt so grateful to her for saying that he got a lump in his throat. She’d experienced all of this with another man, probably faced the same questions, the same fears and had worked through it, knew what to expect. She’d made it feel special for him with her words, a new experience for them both, that they could share and that would bring with it its own unique ups and downs.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“What will Clarke think?” Abby said.

“She’s always nursing her doll. She’ll probably love a real-life baby to care for.”

“As long as she doesn’t drop it on its head like she does the doll.” Abby grimaced.

“She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.”

“This won’t change how I feel about Clarke, you know,” said Kane, keen to allay any fears Abby might have in return for how she’d comforted him.

“No, I know, but you’re allowed to be proud and happy and it’s okay for him or her to be extra special. You deserve it.”

“No. Clarke will always be my first child. This doesn’t change that and never will.”

“That’s nice to hear.” Abby put her hand on the back of his neck and brought him towards her lips. They kissed, and Kane ran his hand up under her shirt towards her breasts.

“I’ve never made love to a pregnant woman,” he whispered.

“You’ll have to be inventive eventually.”

“I can do that.” He tweaked her nipple and Abby groaned. “I’m going to start practicing now.” He slipped from under her, settled himself over her thighs. He bent and kissed her bare stomach. “Close your eyes and ears, baby raspberry,” he said, making Abby shake with laughter beneath him.

\---

**Four Weeks Later**

“How do I look?” Abby was standing in front of the mirror, looking at herself in her new blue dress. She turned from side to side, trying to see if the dress showed her bump.

Marcus moved behind her and positioned them both so they were standing sideways on to the mirror. He put his hands on her belly, flattening her dress.

“There she is,” he said, stroking the slight swell the baby was making.

“We don’t know it’s a girl.”

“I know, but I can’t bring myself to call her an it.” Marcus caressed Abby’s belly and pressed a kiss to her neck. “You look beautiful. I don’t think anyone will be able to tell.” He let the dress hang loose and he was right, you couldn’t tell unless you knew.

“I want to tell Sandra first before we tell everyone else,” said Abby. “She deserves to hear it privately I think.”

“She’ll be happy for you, though.”

“Oh, yes, but it’s bound to be bittersweet.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Marcus looked at himself in the mirror, adjusted his black tie. “Do I look funereal enough?” he said with a grin.

“You were always a handsome funeral director. At least the pocket square gives you some colour,” she said, adjusting the bright blue handkerchief that stood out against the black of his suit.

Marcus took Abby’s hand, held it against his chest, rubbing his finger over her engagement ring. “Are you going to wear this straight away or put it on when we’ve told everybody?”

“We said I’d wear it and we’d see how long it took for people to notice, remember?”

“I don’t know how they can fail to notice it,” Marcus said proudly, making Abby want to smile.

He held her hand and put his other hand in the small of her back, swaying with her to the music that was playing in the background. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispered as he nuzzled her hair.

“We might have to bring it forward or push it back. By Thanksgiving I’ll be ready to pop,” she said.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Summer maybe, down by the river.”

“Mmm. That sounds nice.” Marcus captured her lips in a kiss, and they were melting into each other when a small voice interrupted them.

“Mommy I did pee-pee.”

Marcus buried his face in Abby’s neck, and she could feel his laughter warm against her skin. “Mood-breaker,” he whispered.

Abby stifled a grin. “That’s great, baby,” she said as she pushed Marcus away. “Thank you for telling me. That’s a good job.”

Clarke was standing before them in her diaper, her blue eyes staring up at them. She had her hands on her hips and that made Abby want to laugh and cry at the same time, she looked so cute, and less like a baby each day. “Daddy will help you,” she said, ignoring Marcus’s indignant look.

She finished getting ready for the party and Marcus returned with Clarke. He’d dressed her as well as changing her diaper and Abby’s heart skipped a beat when she saw her baby looking all grown up in her blue and white stripy dress.

“Oh, she looks adorable!” She held out her arms and Clarke ran towards her. Abby picked her up, kissed her daughter’s face. “Apart from her hair. What have you done to it?” She looked at Clarke’s hair; her bangs had been pulled together and tied with a blue band. It stuck out from the top of her head, looking like a whale’s tail.

“She wouldn’t let me brush it, so I had to improvise. I think it looks cute!” Marcus gave Abby a challenging stare.

“Hmm.” Abby set Clarke down and appraised her. “Do you like your hair, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Can mommy brush it maybe?”

“No.” Clarke shook her head vehemently.

“Okay then. I guess you do look kind of cute.”

“Are you ready?” said Marcus, taking both Abby’s hand and Clarke’s.

“Yes. Let’s go party!”

“Party!” shouted Clarke.

“Best looking family in Arkadia Falls,” said Marcus as he led them towards the door.

It was only a ten-minute walk along the riverbank and across the road to the coffee shop, which they’d hired out for the party. They had a lot of news to give their friends and family and had decided it was easiest to tell them all at the same time. Besides, Abby thought they deserved a moment of celebration after everything they’d been through.

Marcus opened the door and ushered Abby and Clarke through. Lincoln had put colourful vases of fresh spring flowers on the tables and every spare surface, and lanterns Abby had salvaged from the festival were hanging from the ceiling.

“It looks beautiful,” she said to Marcus. The room was already crowded with people. Raven spotted them straight away and nudged Vera who was standing next to her talking to Principal Jaha. Raven hurried towards them, Vera following more slowly. Both women were smiling.

“You all look so adorable!” said Raven, flinging her arms around Abby, kissing her cheek. “And you are the sweetest thing, Clarke. I love your hair!”

“That was me,” said Marcus.

“Really?” Raven looked at him sceptically.

“Yes! Why are you surprised. I can dress my daughter, you know.”

“I dunno. It seems a bit modern for you.”

“I’m up with the times,” said Marcus, frowning at Raven.

“It’s down with the times, and that just proves my point.” She laughed, and then she gave Clarke a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, Abby dear.” Vera kissed Abby on both cheeks.

“Hi Vera. It’s lovely to see you.”

“We were all intrigued to be here after your mysterious summons.”

“It wasn’t a summons, mom, it was a party invitation,” said Marcus.

“Yes, but with no clue as to what we are celebrating.”

“There are lots of things to celebrate. Being alive, for one.” Marcus gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

Abby reached down and stroked the back of Clarke’s head while she scanned the room looking for Sandra whose plane had not long since landed. There was a squeal from Raven.

“Oh, my God, what is this?” She took Abby’s hand, looked at the ring. “I’m surprised you can hold your hand up.”

“It’s not that big,” said Abby, grinning.

“I’m just teasing you. It’s beautiful. So, when did this happen?”

“A while ago, actually. The night of the festival.”

“You never said a word!” said Vera indignantly.

“We wanted to enjoy it ourselves for a while,” replied Marcus, “and then, well everything got out of hand and it didn’t seem the right time to tell people.”

“All that time you made me hate you and secretly you were engaged.” Raven pouted theatrically.

“I’m sorry about that. You know I am.”

“I know. You’re forgiven. I was only upset because you two are so perfect for each other. I just wanted you to be happy.”

“I know, and I love you for that.” Marcus put his arm around Raven, pulled her to him and pressed a kiss to her head.

She pushed him away, and he pushed her back and they jostled each other playfully.

“Stop it, you two!” said Vera. “You’re a pair of children.” She turned to Abby. “I’m so pleased to have you officially in the family, Abby.”

“Thank you.” Abby received a warm hug from Vera.

“Is this what we’re celebrating, then?” said Raven, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“It’s one of many things,” said Abby, and then she spotted Sandra coming out of the rest room and waved to her. “Will you excuse me a moment.”

She left Vera and Raven congratulating Marcus and headed towards her mother-in-law. She wanted to get to her before she was amongst the crowd of people. Abby felt butterflies in her stomach that were nothing to do with the baby. She was nervous about telling Sandra her news, but determined to do it straight away, not let it fester in her mind like she had about her relationship with Marcus. She wanted Sandra to hear it directly from her as well, not as part of a larger group.

“Abby! Oh, Abby!” Sandra hurried towards her and the two women embraced in a warm hug. Tears flowed down Abby’s face as she clung to the woman. It was comforting to be in the embrace of someone who had known Abby all her life, who had loved her and cared for her throughout everything.

“I’m so thrilled you were able to come,” Abby said when they finally broke apart.

Sandra wiped the tears from Abby’s cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m only sorry I couldn’t come sooner, when you really needed me.”

“It was probably best you weren’t here for that. It wasn’t very pleasant.”

“I think that’s an understatement. I’m so proud of what you did for Jake, Abby. He would have been proud of you too.”

“I know,” said Abby, a sob escaping her. “I did it all for him, and Clarke.”

“Thank you.” Sandra pulled her into another hug. “Where is my granddaughter? I’m dying to see her.”

“She’s here. She’s with Marcus. There’s something I want to tell you before I introduce you to everybody.”

“Is it about this?” said Sandra, holding up Abby’s hand and looking at the ring.

“That’s one thing, yes. We’re getting married, Marcus and I, probably this summer.” Abby looked closely at Sandra, trying to gauge her reaction.

“That’s wonderful! I’m so pleased for you.” She gave Abby a kiss and another hug.

“Thank you,” said Abby, relieved to have got one thing out of the way. “There’s something else, though.” She took a deep breath, then found she couldn’t get the words out.

“Just say it, love. We’re in a new chapter remember. It’s all okay.”

“Yes. Okay. Erm, well, you’re going to be a grandmother again.” She searched Sandra’s blue eyes that were so like Jake’s and Clarke’s. Sandra stared for a moment, looking like Marcus had when she’d first told him, and then her eyes crinkled and she smiled.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes. Twelve weeks. It wasn’t planned, but we’re really happy about it.”

“Then I’m happy for you. That’s fantastic news.” Sandra drew Abby into another hug.

“I hope you don’t mind being grandmother to this baby as well,” Abby whispered. “It’s just, you’ve been a mother to me most of my life, and especially these last ten years since my mom passed. I love you so much. I want this baby to know you and love you.”

Sandra’s body heaved in Abby’s arms as she cried. She pressed Abby tighter to her. “You’re a gift, Abby. You always have been.” She pulled away and the two women looked at each other.

“No one else knows yet, not even Marcus’s mom. I wanted to tell you first. We’re going to announce it later.”

“Thank you. I won’t say a word. Clarke’s going to love being a big sister!”

“I hope so. Shall we go and find her. I want you to meet Marcus and his mom.”

“Let’s do it.” Sandra wiped the tears from her face and Abby did the same.

“Do I look okay?” she said. “I put on waterproof mascara in anticipation.”

Sandra laughed. She licked her thumb and wiped it across Abby’s cheek. “Just a little bit has run. Now you look perfect.”

Abby took Sandra’s arm and they walked towards her old table in the corner of the room where Marcus was sitting with Vera, Raven and Clarke. “How’s your hotel?”

“It’s lovely. You’ve been very generous.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ve come all this way. You could have stayed with us, you know.”

“I know, but you need your own space, and to be honest at my age so do I.”

“Well, you must come around whenever you want. I want you to see plenty of Clarke while you’re here.”

They approached the table and Marcus stood, came towards them.

“This is Jake’s mom, and mine really. Sandra Griffin. Sandra, this is Marcus. Marcus Kane.”

“Hello,” said Marcus, holding out his hand to Sandra. “It’s lovely to meet you at last.”

Sandra took his hand, then pulled him in for a hug. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard such a lot about you. Thank you for taking care of Abby and my granddaughter.”

“They’re wonderful. You have a beautiful family.”

“Thank you.”

Clarke came up to Abby, demanding to be picked up. “This is grandma Griffin, Clarke. She looked after you when you were a tiny baby and mommy was in hospital.”

Clarke stared at Sandra. She wouldn’t remember her, of course, although Abby had talked about her a lot and she’d heard her voice on the phone.

“Hi Clarke. I’ve got something for you. I’ve brought it all the way from Germany!” Sandra gave Clarke the gift and Marcus helped her unwrap it. It was a small brown bear with a tag in its ear that said ‘Steiff".

“Bear!” said Clarke, grabbing the toy and holding it to her.

“I think she likes it,” said Abby. “Say thank you, Clarke.”

“Tank you.”

“She looks so grown-up, Abby,” said Sandra, wiping another tear away.

“I know. I try not to think about it too much.” She laughed. Vera stood and moved next to Marcus. “This is Vera, Marcus’s mom,” said Abby, and the two women shook hands.

“Abby tells me you’re living in Germany, Sandra,” said Vera.

“Yes, I’ve been there a few years now. Jake’s father was in the military and we ended up there.”

“My family’s from Sweden originally.”

“Oh, well there are a lot of Scandinavian influences in Germany.”

“Really?”

The two women moved away, talking, and Abby looked at Marcus. “I think they’re hitting it off!”

“Good! I was worried we would have the wars of the grandmas,” he said, making Abby laugh. He put his arm around Abby. “How did it go with Sandra?”

“Really well. She’s happy.”

“Oh, I’m so glad.” He kissed her. “Are you ready for a drink?”

“Yes, I’ll have a lemonade, please.” Abby took a seat at the table, glad to be able to rest. Her stomach was aching a little, and she rubbed it. She hadn’t had any morning sickness for a couple of days and was hopeful that it was over, but this was just the start of her journey, she knew that.

“Look who I found,” said Marcus as he returned with her drink. Mrs Larson smiled at Abby.

“Hi, love.”

Abby stood, gave Mrs Larson a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course, love; I wouldn’t miss it.”

“How’s Mr Larson?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Still got a few more years left in him yet.” She winked at Abby.

\---

Kane left Abby talking to Mrs Larson and did a circuit of the room. There were still a lot of Abby’s friends he didn’t know. He’d decided he’d better make more of an effort to get to know them now that he and Abby were engaged. Her friends were his, he supposed. All the talking made his throat dry, and he headed to the counter to get a drink. Louisa was serving.

“What can I get you?” she said.

“A glass of red would be nice.”

She poured him a drink and handed it to him. “Have you heard anything about your ex-wife and Mrs Cartwig?”

Kane took a large draft of his drink. “They’ve both been indicted on a number of charges relating to the court case, and I made a formal complaint to the police about Rebecca’s conduct regarding Kane and Co. The police haven’t said anything officially yet but the detective leading the investigation told me charges relating to financial fraud were imminent.”

“I hope she gets put away for good for what she did to Mrs Griffin. And you,” she added, making Kane smile.

“She didn’t get bail, so she’s safely locked away for now. Hopefully she’ll stay that way.”

“Fingers crossed,” said Louisa.

“Yes.” He took another sip of his drink. “Right, I guess I’d better say a few words before people get too drunk to hear our news.”

“What news?”

“You’ll see.” He smiled at Louisa, then made his way over to Abby.

“I thought we’d, erm, do our thing, if you’re ready,” he said.

“Might as well,” she said as Kane took her hand and helped her up. “I know you’re fit to burst,” she whispered into his ear as they walked to the centre of the room.

“I’m just so happy.” He put his arm around her, kissed the side of her head.

“Erm, can I have your attention everybody, for a minute. Abby and I have a few things we want to say.”

A sea of expectant faces looked at him. Kane cleared his throat, took hold of Abby’s hand. “Thank you for coming, everybody, especially those who have travelled a long way to be here. Abby and I really appreciate it. We’ve had some tough times lately, as you all know. I don’t want to dwell too much on that, but I do what to thank everyone who supported us. Lincoln and Louisa, who went to great lengths to help us gather the evidence we needed to defeat those who were trying to ruin us.”

There was a round of applause at Kane’s words.

“I’d do anything for Abby,” said Lincoln with a big grin.

“I’m making it my mission in life that one day you will like me,” said Kane, smiling back.

“One day,” said Lincoln, and everybody laughed.

“My mom and Uncle Martin who did so much to take the burden from me, and supported me even when they thought I was at my worst. Thank you. Raven, who I treated terribly when all she ever gave was her love.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry, Mr Kane!” Raven said, her eyes growing moist.

“I was hoping if I officially made you Manager of Kane and Co’s northern operations you might one day forgive me.”

“Oh, my God!” she said, covering her mouth in shock.

“You’ll still have to report to me and be nice to me occasionally.” Kane smiled at her.

“I’m sure I can learn how to do that,” replied Raven, grinning.

“I look forward to the day.”

Abby stepped forward. “You keep him on his toes, Raven,” she said, to laughter from the audience. “Hi everyone. I’d like to add my thanks, first of all to Sandra, who was a great solace to me not just these last few months but throughout my life. She was here for me even when she was grieving herself and I was unable to be there for her in the way I wanted. I don’t know how I would have survived what happened without her.”

Abby squeezed Kane’s hand tightly as she spoke. “Mrs Larson, Greta. You helped me survive when I had nothing. You gave me friendship and you looked after Clarke so I could work when I got the chance. You were such a comfort to me, and still are. Thank you.”

“Aah, love. You were a pleasure to have around,” said Mrs Larson.

Kane put his arm around Abby, kissed her head while she wiped tears from her eyes. “I want today to be about happy things, to be a celebration, of life, of friendship, of family, and there also maybe one or two things that Abby and I want to share with you,” he said, taking a deep breath. He’d prepared a speech but now he was standing in front of their family and friends it seemed too stiff and formal. He decided to speak more from the heart.

“Approximately a year ago, I moved to Arkadia Falls and I started coming to this coffee shop to get out of my apartment and have a change from the same four walls. I was in a bad place and didn’t know who I was anymore, or what I wanted. Sitting at the corner table, where our family is sitting now, was a woman with a baby. I noticed her because she was always here, and she spent her time playing with the baby and writing on a large legal pad. I was intrigued by her, but I never spoke to her and she never spoke to me, except sometimes she gave me evil stares.”

“I did not!” said Abby, nudging him.

“You did. Turns out she thought I was eyeing her up for a coffin.”

Abby burst into laughter. “I thought he worked in a funeral home, because of his suits. I mean look at him.” She gestured to Kane’s black suit.

“He’s always been like that,” said Raven. “Mean and moody.”

“I think you mean suave and sophisticated,” said Kane, pulling a face at her. “Anyway. One day we did speak, and found that we had a lot in common, not just our shared love of books but our experiences and our losses, which were different, but caused us the same pain. I realised she was a beautiful, warm, loving, exciting woman, and I fell in love with her, and her daughter, and amazingly she did the same with me. We were travellers on the same road, and I knew I wanted to spend my whole life making the journey with her and Clarke. So, a few weeks ago I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”

Everybody clapped, and cheers and whistles echoed around the room along with words of congratulation.

“Thank you,” said Abby.

“We were going to get married at Thanksgiving, which is the anniversary of our first date that wasn’t really a date,” said Kane, looking at Abby who was smiling warmly at him. “But we’ll be expecting something else around that time, or someone else, I should say.” Kane looked at his mother while he said this, saw her frown and then her eyes grow wide.

“Oh, my God, you’re not?” said Raven.

Abby nodded. “I am. We are. We’re having a baby! It’s due at the beginning of December.”

“The baby’s the size of a plum now,” said Kane, unable to hide his excitement now the news was out.

Abby laughed. “Marcus gives the baby different fruit names as it grows. I’m worried I’m going to give birth to a giant pumpkin.”

“It might feel like that,” said Raven, who of course didn’t know Abby couldn’t give birth in that way.

“I hope not,” said Abby brightly. Kane squeezed her shoulder, and then there was chaos, with people coming up to congratulate them. Vera remained standing at the back of the room against the wall, and Kane eventually made his way to her.

“What do you think?” said Kane, nervous suddenly because she was quiet, and he wondered if they should have told her separately like they had Sandra, but she wasn’t usually the sentimental type.

“I think I’m very proud of you.” She held her arms out and Kane went to her, let her envelop him in a warm hug. “I never wanted you to come up here, but I’m glad you did. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

“I’ve never been this happy before. Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“I love you, son. I always have even if I don’t show it.”

“I know. I know you do.”  

“You deserve this; Abby deserves you. You’re a good man.”

“Thank you.” Kane put his hand in his jacket pocket, took out the precious item he’d been given the day before. “This is our baby,” he said, showing the sonogram to Vera.

“It’s a lot clearer than in my day,” she said, examining it.

“You can see her head, and her tiny legs,” he said pointing out the obvious to Vera, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d been fascinated by the image since he’d seen it on the screen in the consultant’s office, had examined it forensically, wanting to know every inch of his child from the very beginning.

“You’re having a girl? They can tell you that at this stage?”

“No, we don’t know the sex, but it doesn’t feel right calling our baby an it, plus I have a feeling it’s my destiny to be surrounded by women.” Kane smiled as he took the scan from Vera, ran his finger over the shape of his creation.

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” said Vera, smiling softly at him.

“What is?”

“The love you already feel.”

“Yeah,” said Kane. “I just want to protect them both.”

Vera cupped his cheek, brushed it with her thumb. “You will.”


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane and Abby have a new arrival, and Abby gets a surprise.

In the operating room, and Kane was standing next to Abby holding her hand. They were both dressed in blue scrubs and Abby was lying on a bed, a screen above her chest. Behind the screen her big, round belly was exposed. They were minutes away from meeting their child for the first time. Kane was excited and nervous, worried about Abby, worried about the baby. He understood all those old movies now where men paced endlessly outside maternity rooms. He’d be pacing if he hadn’t been instructed to stay by Abby’s side. He kept glancing behind the screen, watching with a strange fascination as they prepared Abby for the birth.

The consultant looked up at him. “Okay, dad. Why don’t you comfort mom for a minute or two while we do our thing? I’ll let you know when baby is coming.”

“I want to see the baby’s birth,” said Kane.

“You will, but we usually advise waiting until baby’s ready. Trust me.” The doctor gave Kane a look that said don’t mess with me, and Kane nodded.

“Okay.”

“What’s happening?” said Abby.

Kane moved behind the screen and took hold of her hand. “They’re spreading some yellow stuff all over your belly. It won’t be long now.”

“We still haven’t decided on a name.”

“I know. I want to see what she or he looks like first. What if we give them a name and then they look nothing like it?”

“Who looks like a name?”

“A name is important. When I first met you I thought for weeks you were called Abigail because that’s how the papers described you. When I found out you preferred Abby I felt like I didn’t know you.”

“You didn’t know me!”

“That’s not the point. The point is I got used to you as an Abby eventually.”

“Thanks!”

Kane laughed. “But what if we call our daughter something flowery like Rose and she’s built like a quarterback?”

“Our daughter, if that’s what we have, is not going to be built like a quarterback!”

“We don’t know that.”

“You’re insane.” Abby looked at Kane, her dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

“And yet you love me.”

The doctor coughed. “Erm, Mrs Kane, we’re about to make the incision. You may feel uncomfortable but you won’t feel pain. If you do, let us know.”

“Thank you,” said Abby. She gripped Kane’s hand harder. “It’s happening!” she said.

“It is. We’re going to have a baby!”

“I hope the baby’s healthy; that’s all I want.”

“She will be. Everything’s been great so far.”

“You’re so convinced it’s a girl.”

“I have kind of got used to that idea. If it’s a boy I don’t know what I’ll do!” Kane kissed Abby’s hand.

“It doesn’t matter, though, does it?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Okay, dad. You might want to look know,” said the consultant.

Kane squeezed Abby’s hand, took a deep breath to steel himself because he wasn’t at all sure what he was going to see or if he could cope with the sight, and looked around the screen.

“What’s going on?” said Abby.

“The baby’s coming. The doctor is bringing her out. Oh, she’s here! It is a girl, I was right!” Kane watched as his daughter was lifted into the air. His heart nearly burst out of his chest as he looked at her. He’d thought for so long about her as a picture on the sonogram, a series of scan lines and contours, and to see her in the flesh was shocking. She was small and pink, and he was completely in love.

“A girl?”

“Yeah. Oh, God, she’s beautiful, Abby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. She has a perfect round face, and dark hair, quite a lot of it.”

“I knew she would,” said Abby, sobbing.

“They’re taking her to the side. I can’t see what they’re doing.”

“She hasn’t cried. Shouldn’t she be crying?”

Kane could feel Abby trying to move, to sit up. “Don’t move. The nurses have her.” He felt panic rise because the baby hadn’t cried, and he couldn’t see what the nurses were doing.

“The nurses are just clearing her airways,” said the consultant, and a second after he said that the air was filled with the first sound Kane would ever hear from his child as she cried.

“Oh, there she is!” he said. “That was loud.”

“Yes, it was.” Abby sobbed again, and Kane felt tears starting to well.

“She has good lungs!”

“She’s noisy, like you,” said Abby.

“I was thinking more like you.”

It felt like an age before the nurse turned and he saw she had the baby in her arms, swaddled tight in a white blanket with blue and red stripes. “Here you go, daddy,” she said, and she handed her to Kane.

He was totally unprepared for the feeling of having her in his arms, her warmth, the weight of her, the precious load he now had to carry and protect for the rest of his life. She screwed up her face as she let out another cry, and he bent over her, kissed her for the first time. Her skin was soft and delicate beneath his lips. Tears dripped down his cheeks and onto her and he didn’t dare move an arm to wipe them away, was terrified he’d drop her.

He turned, took her to Abby.

“Our daughter,” he said, and he held her close so that Abby could kiss her cheek.

“She’s beautiful,” Abby sighed, her own tears dripping onto the baby’s blanket.

“She looks like a bug in a cocoon. Hello little bug. I’m your daddy.” Kane kissed her again, and then he passed her to Abby, helped her hold the baby next to her on the bed. “This is mommy.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” said Abby, kissing her forehead.

“Just for a moment, mommy,” said the consultant, “then we need to tidy you up.”

“Okay,” said Abby. She looked up at Kane with damp eyes. “I love her so much already.”

“I know, me too. I love you. I’m so proud of you.” Kane kissed Abby’s forehead, and her cheek. “I love you so much. Thank you for this. Thank you for everything.”

“I love you too. I love our little family.”

Kane stroked Abby’s hair. It was overwhelming the amount of love and admiration he had for her. It still seemed like a miracle that he was with her, that she had chosen him, and now they had a child together. Who would have thought it?

The nurse who’d handed Kane his daughter came over to them. “Okay, daddy, we need to sort mom out so why don’t you take baby while we do that? You can sit over here.”

Kane took the baby from Abby, walked gingerly with her over to the chair and sat down as though he was holding a hand grenade and if he moved too quickly it would explode.

“Here’s baby Kane’s vital statistics,” the nurse said, handing Kane a booklet. “She weighs seven pounds four ounces and she’s fifty-one centimetres long.”

“Is that normal?” said Kane.

“She’s within the expected range, yes.”

“Oh, good.”

“When you get to the recovery room you can unswaddle her and get some skin to skin contact between her and mom, and her and you, okay?”

“Okay.” Kane had read nearly every baby book available in his bookstore and was aware of the importance of that type of contact early on. He couldn’t wait.

\---

Abby was wheeled into the recovery room and Marcus followed her, waiting by the door while her bed was fixed in place and her tubes were checked and adjusted. When they were alone at last, he brought the baby to her.

“The nurse said we should unwrap her, and you should have her next to your skin.”

“That would be great. You’ll have to help me. I’m not allowed to move much.”

Marcus laid the baby in the bassinette while he undid the ties on Abby’s smock, helped her pull it down over her arms. He returned to the baby, and Abby watched as he unwrapped her with shaking fingers.

“I’m scared to pick her up,” he said with a soft laugh.

“You’ve held Clarke. It’s the same.”

“Not when she was this tiny.”

“Just make sure you support her head. You’ll be fine.”

Marcus picked up their daughter, walked slowly over to the bed with her. “Here you go, mommy,” he said, and he placed her head on Abby’s chest.”

The baby curled towards her and Abby put her arm around her. Marcus had his hand on their daughter’s back, supporting her. Abby felt a surge of emotion and love that brought tears to her eyes. The baby was warm against her skin, and felt light and delicate and so incredibly heavy at the same time. It was her fragility mixed with the weight of responsibility and the deep love she already felt.

“I love you, sweetheart,” she whispered.

“Look how beautiful she is, Abby,” Marcus said, stroking the baby’s hair.

“She’s perfect.”

“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he said. “It’s hard to put into words.”

“I know. It’s overwhelming.” Abby touched her finger to the baby’s hand, and she grasped it. “I never had this with Clarke,” she said, looking up at Marcus. “I never heard her first cry or saw her when she was new-born.”

“I know.” Marcus dragged a chair closer so he was sitting right next to the bed and could support the baby with one hand and with the other stroke Abby’s hair. He reached up, kissed her head. “I bet Clarke was just as loud as this one.”

“Yes. She’d have made her presence felt.”

“Definitely.”

“I can’t wait to be able to hold her properly.”

“Did the consultant say when you’d be able to?”

“It depends on how well I recover. He said I’ll be in here at least two days, though.”

“I want you both home as soon as possible.”

“We will be. Are you going to take your shirt off?” She looked at him with a smirk.

“Why Mrs Kane, it’s a little soon for that, don’t you think?” Marcus arched his eyebrow as he smiled at her.

“I’m lying here with my boobs out on display. The least you can do is the same.”

“My boobs are not as magnificent as yours,” said Marcus, and he unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged it off.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Abby grinned as he reached over, lifted the baby gently from Abby’s chest, held her flat against his own.”

“How does that feel?” she said. Her heart was full as she watched him looking down at their daughter, a loving smile on his face. It made her want to cry, because he’d wanted this for so long, and even though she knew how much he loved Clarke, there was a particular joy in having your own child, your own creation. She’d had that pleasure when she’d first seen Clarke, and now it was Marcus’s turn. It made her so happy to have been able to give him this.

“Amazing.” He looked up at Abby with bright eyes and blinked tears away as he stroked the back of her head. “She’s so small.”

“Yeah, but her legs are long, have you noticed that?”

“Like yours.”

“I hope she grows taller than me, though.”

“Why? You’re the perfect package.”

That made Abby smile. “You should try living life as a short person, then you’d understand.”

“You’d better hope you take after daddy, then,” Marcus said to the baby, and kissed her face.

“We have to think of a name,” said Abby. “Does she look like anything to you yet?”

“I did have a thought on the way over here actually, but I wanted to wait until she was born to see if it suited her,” said Marcus.

“Oh, God, what did you see? Is she going to be named after a street sign?”

Marcus laughed. “Not far off. What do you think of Lola?”

“Lola?” Abby turned the name over and over in her mind. She couldn’t think of any Lolas she didn’t like; in fact she didn’t know any Lolas at all, except the one from the song. “What made you think of... oh! The pizzeria!”

“It’s a special place for us,” said Marcus, his brown eyes searching hers, his brow furrowed as he waited for her verdict.

“It is.” Did she want their daughter named after a pizzeria, though? Did that matter? No, it really didn’t, and Marcus was right, it was a special place, the place where they’d realised they were in love with each other, though it had taken them a while to admit it. “I love it,” she said.

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful name, for our beautiful daughter.”

“It has a lot of meaning.”

“It does, yes. Well done you.”

Marcus stood, gave the baby back to Abby.

“Hi, Lola,” she said. “Welcome to our family.”

\---

“Are you excited to meet your baby sister, Clarke?” Kane held tightly to the girl’s hand as she half-skipped, half-stumbled along the hallway next to him. “Oops!” he said as her knees buckled, and she started to fall. He swept her up into the air before she hit the floor.

“Daddy!” she screamed happily as he twirled her then set her back down on the floor. Kane’s heart constricted. Her little world was about to be changed forever, and although they’d tried to prepare her for Lola’s arrival, and she’d talked to her through Abby’s belly, it would be a different thing to have the baby here in the flesh. It had been enough of a shock for Kane yesterday and he wasn’t two and a half. Clarke was used to having his and Abby’s undivided attention, and that was going to change and stay that way for the rest of her life.

Kane stopped as they reached the door of Abby’s hospital room. He knelt beside Clarke. “You know that mommy and daddy love you more than anything, don’t you? You’re our angel, our special little girl.”

She looked at him with her big blue eyes and nodded.

“Good, because that will never change.” He stood, grabbed her hand again. “Okay, let’s meet your sister.”

He knocked on the door then opened it a little and put his head around it. Abby was sitting up in the bed, looking in their direction and smiling. Lola was in the bassinette. She was quiet, so Kane guessed she was asleep. He opened the door wider, brought Clarke into the room. He resisted the temptation to go straight to the bassinette, because this moment was about Clarke and not him.

“Hi,” he said to Abby, kissing her lips. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Hi baby! Oh, the t-shirt looks great, Marcus.”

“Isn’t it cute?” They’d bought Clarke a t-shirt that said ‘I’m a big sister’ and Kane had dressed her in it for the occasion.

Clarke put her arms out towards Abby to be picked up. Kane lifted her and sat her on the bed next to Abby. “Be careful of mommy’s tummy, okay, angel. It’s not feeling very well.”

“Is baby there?” she said.

“No. The baby’s out of mommy’s tummy now. Do you want to see her?”

“Yes.”

“Is it okay to get her?” Kane said, making Abby smile.

“She’s your daughter too.”

“I know. I just didn’t want to wake her.”

“I don’t think she’s fast asleep, and she’s due a feed soon anyway.”

“Okay.” Kane went over to the bassinette, looked down at his daughter. She was awake, her wide eyes staring at the ceiling. “Hi, Lola-bug,” he said. “It’s daddy.” She turned her head towards the sound of his voice, and he leaned in and gently picked her up. He cradled her, kissing her forehead. “Do you want to meet your sister?”

He took her over to the bed, held her next to Clarke. “This is Lola.”

“Say hello to Lola, Clarke,” said Abby.

Clarke looked at the baby with a frown. Kane didn’t think she was enamoured with her new sister.

“She’s like dolly but you have to be very careful with her. Do you want to hold her?”

Clarke frowned some more and then nodded. She held out her arms and Kane put Lola in them, keeping a tight hold of her so Clarke couldn’t squeeze her or drop her or do any of the terrible things she sometimes did to her poor doll.

“Are you going to give Lola a kiss?” said Abby.

“Okay.” Clarke pressed a sloppy kiss to Lola’s head. “Lo Lo,” she said.

“Lola, that’s right,” said Kane. Lola screwed up her face which Kane already knew was a signal she was going to cry. He lifted her away from Clarke just as she let out a loud wail. Clarke stuck her bottom lip out and started crying as well.

“Oh, dear,” said Abby, and she held Clarke to her while Kane rocked Lola in his arms.

“Is this our life from now on?” said Kane as both girls cried.

“I think this is probably it for the next twenty-five years,” said Abby with a pained smile. “Can we swap daughters? I think Lola needs feeding.”

Kane handed the baby to Abby and picked up Clarke. She cried in his arms, but her tears had dried up, so he figured she was over the initial shock and was just needing some attention. He sat in the chair with her on his knee, bent down and picked an object out of his bag.

“Mommy and daddy got you something for being a good girl,” he said, and he gave her the gift they’d chosen a couple of weeks before in anticipation of this moment. He looked up at Abby who was watching them while Lola suckled at her breast.

“Are you going to open it, baby?” she said.

Clarke grabbed the present and Kane helped her tear off the paper. “Brown bear brown bear!” she said, and all trace of tears and upset were gone instantly.

“He does special things if you press his tummy,” said Kane, and he held Clarke’s hand and squeezed the bear so it spoke rhymes from the book in a deep, gruff voice.

Clarke squealed with delight, and she got down from Kane’s knee and flopped onto the floor with the bear.

“She’s so easily pleased,” said Kane with a laugh.

He moved the chair closer to Abby’s bed, stroked Lola’s hair as she fed.

“She’s so contented like this,” said Abby.

“She’s definitely my daughter,” he said with a smirk.

“She is. How was Clarke last night?”

“She was okay. She missed you. We both did.”

“First night I’ve been apart from her.”

“It won’t be long now until you’re home. Has the consultant seen you?”

“Yes, he was here this morning. He said I’m doing good, and all being well I can go home tomorrow.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah. I can’t wait.”

Abby looked down at Lola and Kane watched them both. This was only the second time he’d seen Abby feed the baby, and it was fascinating and humbling. He’d always thought of her breasts as his, a part of her body he enjoyed to look at and touch and play with. He’d got a lot of pleasure out of them and so had Abby, and now they were serving an entirely different function. He found it beautiful, but confusing, if he was honest with himself. It made him feel arrogant to have considered them his, and also redundant, because Abby was needed by Lola in a way that he could never be. He also missed them already, if he was really, really honest.

“What are you thinking about?” said Abby.

“Nothing. Just watching you.” He smiled sheepishly, and she raised her eyebrow but didn’t comment further.

Lola finished feeding and Abby gave her to Kane. “Do you want to wind her? You were good at it yesterday.”

He got a muslin out of the diaper bag and held Lola against his shoulder, rubbing her back gently. She made contented grunting noises. He could feel her heart beating fast when he rested his hand against her back. She was so precious, so vulnerable. He wanted to swaddle her to him and never let her go.

“Clarke seems settled now,” said Abby.

“Yeah. I hope she’ll be okay. She’s probably the most affected by this, and the least able to tell us how she feels.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll tell us how she feels. She already has.” Abby laughed.

“She was okay holding her, wasn’t she? Did you see that video on the internet of that child Clarke’s age holding her sister and being completely unimpressed?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Let me find it.” Kane searched on his phone and brought up the video, showed it to Abby.

“Oh, my God! She was a lot better than that!”

“Yes. It will be okay.”

“It will.”

Lola burped and Kane patted her back. “That’s a good girl,” he said.

“How long are you staying?” said Abby.

“My mom’s coming by soon; I hope that’s okay. She wants to see Lola and then she’s going to take Clarke home so we can have some time together just the three of us.”

“Of course that’s okay, and it will be lovely to have some time with you and Lola.”

“I’d be happy to move in here. It was strange not having you in our bed last night.”

“I’d make the most of it if I were you. It will be the last peaceful night you get for a while.”

“What have we let ourselves in for?” said Kane as he looked at Lola, saw she’d fallen asleep.

“Too late to turn back now.”

“Yeah.”

They sat for a while, talking, watching Clarke play. There was a knock at the door, and it creaked open slowly. Vera Kane walked in, a huge bunch of flowers in her hand,

“These are from Raven,” she said in response to Kane’s raised eyebrow.

“They’re beautiful,” said Abby. “Hi, Vera.”

“Hello, dear. How are you?”

“I’m great. We’re doing great. Do you want to meet your granddaughter?”

“I do.”

Kane stood and showed Lola to his mother. “She just had a feed, so she’s sleepy.”

“Look at all that hair! And her nose. She’s definitely yours,” said Vera.

“I should hope so!”

She smiled, and then she kissed Kane. “She’s beautiful. Well done both of you.”

“Thanks, mom. Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh. Erm, yes, I suppose so.”

Kane exchanged amused looks with Abby, and then handed Lola to Vera. She held her gingerly. “Hello, Lola,” she said, and then fell silent.

“Don’t overwhelm her, mom,” said Kane with a laugh.

“She’s asleep; she can’t hear me.” She kissed Lola’s cheek, then handed her back to Kane. “And how’s Clarke?” She bent towards the girl and ruffled her hair.

“I got bear, ganma,” said Clarke, showing Vera the toy.

“He looks very handsome. What’s his name?”

“Bear!” said Clarke, looking at Vera as though she’d asked the most stupid question in the world.

“Of course. Very sensible name.”

Vera stayed for half an hour and then took Clarke with her when she left.

Kane was finally alone with Abby and Lola. He took her out of the bassinette, sat on the bed next to Abby and settled her between them. They both looked down at her. Kane took hold of her tiny hand, stroked her fingers. “She’s so perfect.”

“I know.” Abby stroked her hair. “Her nose IS like yours.”

They both stared at Lola.

“She has your lips,” said Kane.

“Do you think so?”

“Yes. Like a cupid’s bow.” Kane looked at Abby. “Beautiful like her mom.” He kissed her, and then they leaned further into each other, deepened the kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

Lola snuffled, let out a heavy sigh. “She’s not impressed with us,” said Kane.

“I guess we’ll have to earn her approval.”

“Yeah.”

Kane settled back on the bed, put his arm around Abby and she rested her head on his shoulder. Lola lay between them, sucking on her lips in her sleep, and sighing contentedly.

\---

Abby backed into the door of the coffee shop, easing the stroller up the step as gently as she could so as not to wake the sleeping baby within. She was desperate to escape the bitter cold of the January day. No one came to help her, which was nothing new. She turned to look at her usual table. Lincoln had put a reserved sign on it, which made Abby smile. He came over to her as she settled the stroller next to the window.

“Hi!” he said, peering in at Lola who was thankfully still fast asleep.

“Hi. How’s things?”

“Good. How’s Lola today?”

“She’s great, thank you.” Abby took off her coat and hat and hung them on the rack. She pulled the hood down on the stroller, reached towards her daughter and managed to ease Lola’s woollen hat off without waking her. She had a tendency to overheat, which made life in wintry Minnesota difficult sometimes, as they were constantly moving between temperature zones every time they went in and out of a building.

“I still can’t get over her hair,” said Lincoln.

“I know. Clarke had hardly any when she was born, and what she had was so fair.”

“I guess there’s no need for a DNA test on this one.” Lincoln grinned at Abby and she hit him playfully on the arm.

“There was no need for one before either! I’m a good girl.”

“I know. I’m just teasing. Are you having a flat white as usual?”

“Yes. Decaf, please.”

“No problem. Do you want a pastry?”

“Yes, but I’ll wait until Marcus gets here. He shouldn’t be long.”

Lincoln went to make Abby’s coffee and she settled back in her chair, looked out of the window at the blustery day. She should be working on the outline for her next novel, but she was still breastfeeding at night and permanently exhausted. Clarke had gone on the bottle early because Abby had been in the hospital so long and often the nurses and Sandra had to feed the baby. This time she wanted to do it herself for as long as possible, but it didn’t leave her much energy for anything else.

She watched as two familiar figures walked across the road from the river towards the shop. One tall one in a black coat and red scarf, and one small one in a bright red coat and grey bobble hat. Marcus looked as they approached, saw Abby and smiled. He pointed towards her, and Clarke looked, waved and then dragged Marcus ahead.

“God, it’s cold out there,” said Marcus as he shook the snow off his coat and hung it up together with his scarf. He unfastened Clarke and took off her coat, mittens, hat and scarf and hung them next to his.

“How are my girls?” he said, kissing Abby, and looking lovingly at Lola.

“One of us is resting happily,” said Abby with a tired laugh.

“At least she does sleep in between,” said Marcus, yawning.

He put his backpack on the table with a clunk.

“What have you got in there?”

“You’ll see. Are you okay for a drink?”

“Yes, but if you’re getting a muffin I wouldn’t say no.”

“Okay. Blueberry?”

“Sounds good.”

Marcus headed to the counter.

“Mommy, daddy has a prise for you,” said Clarke, clambering onto Abby’s knee.

“Does he?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

Clarke shook her head, put her finger to her lips and made a loud shushing sound, spraying spit over the table in the process.

“Is it a secret?” said Abby, cleaning the table with a wipe.

“Yes. I’m not ‘llowed to tell.”

“Do you know what it is, baby?”

Clarke shook her head, making Abby laugh. “Okay. I guess we’ll have to wait for daddy to come back.”

“What Lo Lo doing?” Clarke leaned across Abby and peered into the stroller.

“She’s asleep.”

“’Kay.” Clarke was used to her sister now but was only interested in her when she was awake and could be prodded and kissed and cuddled and babbled to. She got jealous when Abby breastfed Lola, and Marcus had to distract her, otherwise she tried to climb on Abby’s knee and interfere. Abby wasn’t sure whether she was jealous of the attention or wanted to share in the activity. It was the only problem behaviour they’d encountered so far, so Abby considered herself lucky. It was easily dealt with, and hopefully Clarke would get used to it.

Marcus returned with a tray of goodies. He gave Abby her muffin and set Clarke’s juice and veggie straws in front of her, then he sat down with a sigh. He closed his eyes, let his head fall back.

“I know,” said Abby, understanding well the signs of the sleep deprived.

“I can only imagine what it’s like for you. At least I get some rest during the night.”

“Not much.”

“No, but more than you.”

“Daddy, give mommy prise,” said Clarke, bouncing on Abby’s knee.

“When we’ve had our drinks, angel” he said. He took a sip of his coffee then opened his backpack. Abby thought he was going to bring out whatever heavy item was in there, but instead it was a bundle of papers. He slid them across to Abby. “I printed out the details of a few houses I liked the look of,” he said.

“Oh, great.” Abby took the papers and leafed through them. They’d realised since having Lola that the condo wasn’t big enough for a family of four. There were only two bedrooms, which was fine while Lola was an infant and was in with them, but she would want her own room eventually, and there was no outdoor space for the girls to play safely. Abby hadn’t lived in a house since she was a teenager, and she was excited.

She and Marcus hadn’t bought anything big together other than bedroom furniture for Clarke, so this was also proving to be a test. So far, they hadn’t agreed on anything. Marcus wanted something large and traditional, and Abby wanted something light and airy. She dismissed the first few houses quickly. They were in the mock English style, which Marcus liked, but Abby found oppressive. She didn’t want to live like an Elizabethan in a mansion. They were in the twenty-first century!

“You barely looked at those,” said Marcus.

“Hmm,” said Abby, screwing up her face.

Marcus tutted.

“You sound like your mother,” said Abby.

“Hey, now!” said Marcus. “That was uncalled for.”

Abby looked up at him and smiled at his indignant face. She flipped through a couple more and then one caught her eye. It was by the river, which they both wanted, but it was modern, architect designed, cedar-clad with huge windows. It perched proudly above the river, had a deck and its own mooring. They could have a boat! The house nestled between mature trees and looked like it had always been there, despite its newness. At the rear of the house was a huge enclosed garden, perfect for Clarke and Lola to play. Inside had wooden floors, clean lines and lots and lots of space.

“This,” Abby said, showing the page to Marcus.

He grinned at her. “I thought you’d like that one.”

“This isn’t your taste, though.”

“I don’t know. It still has a traditional feel to me, and the river location is perfect. It’s not far from where we are now, close to the University so great for access to the library for you and when I’m at the store there.”

“The garden is perfect for the girls,” said Abby. “They could run around all day in there.”

“Yes, and maybe for a dog,” said Marcus, looking hopefully at her.

“You want a dog?” He’d never mentioned this before.

“Well, I was thinking it would be nice for Clarke and Lola to have a pet. It will teach them responsibility and discipline.”

“Oh, you think so, do you?” Abby raised a sceptical eyebrow. “And who’s going to walk it and clean up after it?”

“I will.”

“Two children under three and a dog, Marcus!”

“We said we wanted a noisy family.”

“I want doggy, mommy!” said Clarke.

“I bet you do.” Abby looked at the pictures of the house again. She could see them living there. The girls chasing each other around the garden, her and Marcus relaxing on the deck with a glass of wine. Swimming and rowing in the summer; cosy inside in the winter. Sitting and writing on the large sofa, a dog with its head on her lap, looking at her with big, brown eyes, like Marcus was now.

“Oh, God,” she said with a laugh.

“Shall I make an appointment to view it?” said Marcus.

“I think you better had.”

Lola started to snuffle in the stroller, and she opened her eyes as Abby looked at her.

“Hi, sweetheart,” said Abby. She reached in, ran the back of her finger softly down Lola’s cheek. The baby gurgled, grabbed Abby’s finger and tried to suck it into her mouth.

“She’s awake,” said Marcus, leaning over the table and smiling.

“Yes, and I think she wants a feed. Can you take Clarke off me?”

Marcus put Clarke into the highchair and distracted her with a book while Abby fed Lola. Most of the students in the coffee shop were used to her getting her boob out by now and didn’t even blink, which hadn’t been the case when she’d first done it, but Abby had persuaded Lincoln who’d persuaded his bosses at Eden Coffee to join the Baby-Friendly initiative and now there were stickers before you even got in the door. Anyone who was offended by this natural act could go elsewhere. It didn’t appear to have affected business; in fact, Abby thought she saw more young mothers than before, although that might just be because she was hyper aware now she was nursing herself.

When everyone had been fed and watered, Abby sat with Clarke on her knee and Marcus had Lola in her favourite position when she was with him, which was against his shoulder, her face almost buried in his neck. Somehow, she managed to breathe like that. Maybe she found his scent comforting, like Abby did.

“Are you going to give me my surprise now,” said Abby, desperate to know what was in his backpack.

“Here?” said Marcus with a smirk. “In public?”

“Haha.”

“Give mommy prise, daddy,” shouted Clarke.

“Shush, okay.” Marcus struggled to unzip his backpack one handed as the other hand was holding Lola to him, but he refused Abby’s offer of assistance. “This is just a sample,” he said. “I picked a much larger box up from the Post Office.”

“A large box? What the hell is it?”

Marcus removed a book from his backpack and handed it to Abby. She took it, and her heart beat fast and tears sprung immediately to her eyes.

“Oh, my God!”

“I’m so proud of you,” said Marcus, and when she looked up at him he had tears as well.

“I wasn’t expecting this yet.”

“I know. I got them to expedite it.”

Abby turned her novel over and over in her hands, looking at the cover with its image of a dark cabin next to a glittering river, beneath a blue-black sky. Her name and the title of the book were embossed in silver. She ran her fingers over the lettering, feeling its raised edges.

“The Cabin at Cloud River by Abigail Griffin-Kane,” she said.

“Book, mommy!” said Clarke.

“Yes, it’s a book. It’s mommy’s book.” Abby dissolved into tears and Clarke looked up at her with worried eyes. “Mommy’s happy, baby. Don’t worry,” she said as she tried to get her emotions under control.

“You wrote that in here,” said Marcus.

“I did. At this table.”

“Yes. You worked so hard. I feel honoured that I was able to be a part of it, even if it was from over there,” he said, pointing at his old table and making Abby laugh.

“You’re a big part of it,” she said. She held her hand out to him and he took it, stroking the back with his thumb.

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too. Thank you for bringing this.”

“There’s a massive box of advanced copies back at the condo, so you can start to give them out to whomever you want.”

“I know who I want to give the first one to.” She took her pen out of her bag and opened the copy Marcus had given her. She wrote in the flyleaf, then handed it back to him.

He took a shaky breath, then opened it. “For Kane from the coffee shop, who saved me.” He sniffed, put the book down so he could wipe tears from his eyes. “God, Abby. You saved yourself, and if anything, it was you who saved me.”

Abby kissed Clarke’s head. “Before I met you I was surviving, yes, but life is about more than that. You gave me hope, and a future.”

“You did the same for me.”

“Then we saved each other.”

“We did.” He smiled at her. “And look at what we’ve got now.” He stroked the back of Lola’s head, looking at Abby and Clarke all the time. “Our perfect family.”

“We’re so lucky.”

“Mommy, can daddy read book to me?” Clarke reached towards the book, so Marcus took another one out of his pack and gave her that. She flicked the pages as though she was reading it herself.

“Erm, when you’re older perhaps, sweetheart,” said Abby, pulling an amused face at Marcus.

“Want book!” said Clarke, and her bottom lip started to tremble which was a sure sign she was going to cry.

“I’ll read it to you,” said Marcus, and he took the book from Clarke, winking at Abby. He opened it. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl and her mommy, who practically lived in a coffee shop.”

“Marcus!” said Abby, laughing.

“Shush, mommy,” he said. “I’m reading.”


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

“Lola’s late,” said Clarke, pacing the length of her office.

“She’ll be here,” said Kane, who was sitting in his old chair at his old desk that now belonged to Clarke.

“I hope her flight got in okay. She usually texts.”

“It landed an hour ago, so if she was on it, she should be here any minute.”

“This is mom’s big day, dad. I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Kane got up, walked over to Clarke. He put his arms around her, kissed her blonde head. “It will be fine. You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Thanks.” Clarke kissed his cheek, then she went over to her desk, picked up a sheet of paper with the day’s itinerary on it. “Mom will be here soon. I wanted us all together.”

“Were you missing me, big sister?”

Kane and Clarke both looked up to see Lola standing in the doorway. Her long brown hair was piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun and she was grinning from ear to ear.

Her smile always made Kane smile, and he went over to his daughter, pulled her into a warm bear hug.

“Hello, bug,” he said, kissing her nose that was so like his before he fell through a glass window and broke it.

“Geroff, dad,” she said, but not before giving him a tight squeeze and a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re here okay,” said Clarke, giving her sister a kiss on both cheeks.

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything, although getting out of India was a bit hairy. I had to dodge some locals that didn’t like what I wrote about them.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” said Kane, putting his hands over his ears. His younger daughter’s adventures around the world had given him far too many sleepless nights over the last couple of years and shortened his lifespan he was certain.

“You can read about it in my blog, dad,” said Lola with a grin.

“I’ll let your mother read it and give me the edited highlights as usual.”

“You’re such a chicken.” Lola went over to Clarke, took the itinerary from her and perused it.”

“You’re still my baby, no matter how old you get.”

“I’m twenty-three!”

“You’re my little Lola-bug to me.”

“I love how Clarke was your angel and I was your bug,” said Lola with a laugh. “Why did I get to be the insect?”

“Because I’m the good daughter,” said Clarke, pulling a face at Lola. “And I’m number one.”

“You’re both number one,” said Kane.

“We can’t both be number one,” said Lola. “It’s impossible.”

“You are to me and your mom.”

“Come on, dad. If you had Sophie’s Choice, which one of us would you choose?” Lola crossed her arms and looked at him with challenge in her eyes.

“I’d choose your mom,” said Kane.

“There’s a surprise,” said Lola to Clarke, and both girls rolled their eyes.

Kane ignored them. “You’re my bug because when you were born and they cleaned you up and gave you to me you were all wrapped up and you looked like a bug in a cocoon. You know that.”

“I know. I’m just winding you up. You’re too easy.” She smiled at Kane, and he smiled back, his heart swelling with his love for her. She was so spirited, so like her mother. “So, when’s mom getting here?” said Lola.

“Any minute now,” said Clarke looking at her watch. “We’d better get downstairs.”

Kane followed his daughters downstairs into the main space of the flagship Kane & Co store on Hennepin Avenue. The area where they used to have the Christmas tree and Kane did his turn as Santa Claus was now a coffee shop and Clarke had arranged the tables and chairs so they all faced a stage she had made at the front. Tonight, Abby was doing a reading of her latest book, which had just been published, and they were expecting a full house.

“What do you think of the atmosphere?” said Clarke.

Kane looked around the space. Large black and white photos of spooky scenes from the book were framed on boards around the area, and Clarke had put coloured light bulbs into the ceiling lights so they projected an eerie glow over the room.

“I think it’s very appropriate,” said Kane. “Mom’s book is the scariest one yet.”

“I read it when I was in this camp in the desert,” said Lola. “I screamed so loud when the figure came out of the lake my campmates came rushing into my tent. They thought I was being murdered. I said no, it’s just my mom’s imagination that’s killing me.”

Kane and Clarke both laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder what you’ve done to her, dad, to make her have such dark thoughts,” said Clarke.

“Your mother’s life with me is so perfect she has to create drama in her novels,” said Kane.

“Oh, puke,” said Lola, and she and Clarke both made gagging noises.

“What are you two doing to your father?”

Abby’s low, smoky voice sent shivers through Kane like it had been doing for a quarter of a century now. He turned to look at her. She was wrapped up against the cold, and when she took off her coat he saw she was wearing his favourite cream satin blouse and dark grey jeans with knee-high boots.

“You look fabulous,” he said as he kissed her.

“Dad was telling us how perfect he is,” said Clarke as she gave her mom a kiss.

“He is perfect,” said Abby. “Hi baby. Hi sweetheart!” she said as she moved towards Lola, wrapped her in her arms and pressed kisses all over her face. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here.” She hugged Lola tight and then stood back, appraising her daughter. “You look thin.”

“I’ve been eating nothing but rice and beans for weeks.”

“Then we need to fatten you up!”

“I’m sure dad’s cooking will do that in no time.”

“I’ve got a pan of bolognese on the stove for when we get back to Arkadia Falls,” said Kane.

“See,” said Lola, smiling.

“How was your flight?” said Abby, hanging her coat on the rack and putting her briefcase on the table.

“It was fine.”

“She said she was in trouble with some locals,” said Kane, helping Abby arrange her notebook and pens on the table Clarke had set up on the stage.

“Lola!” said Abby.

“It was nothing much. You can read about it soon enough.”

“Are you staying for a while?”

“Yes. A couple of months at least if that’s okay. I’m going to try and work my India travels up into a book.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” said Abby.

“Let me know if I can help you Lo Lo,” said Clarke.

“Oh, I will, don’t worry. You can use your book world connections to help me.” She grinned.

“What about me?” said Kane, put out that his help wasn’t asked for.

“You’re supposed to be retired.”

“I’m not retired. I’m differently employed.”

“Whatever,” said Lola.

“If he’s retired, that’s news to me,” said Clarke, laughing. “He’s down here from Arkadia Falls at least once a week, and when he’s not here he’s video calling me.”

“Who’s he? I’m your father. You should show me more respect!”

“I know it’s only been six months since you handed me the business, but you can trust me you know.”

“I do trust you. It’s hard to let go, that’s all.”

“I know it is.” Clarke kissed him. “I love you calling me really. As long as it’s not forever.”

“I’ll try to limit my interference.”

Lola, Abby and Clarke all looked at each other. Kane knew what that look was; he’d seen it plenty of times over the years. They didn’t believe him. He was determined to try, though. Clarke deserved to have the reins of the company, had worked hard for it, and he was proud of her.

As they were organising the space the way Abby wanted it, one of their employees came up to Clarke. “Miss Kane, people are gathering outside. Shall we open the doors?”

Clarke looked at Abby. “Are you ready, mom?”

“I am, and Clarke...”

“Yes?”

“Everything looks amazing. I love it so much. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mom.”

“Okay, let’s do this!”

Kane took a seat at the back of the room so he was within Abby’s line of sight but not close enough to be a distraction. She liked to be able to see him if she needed support. Even after twenty-odd years of book readings and publicity events she still got shy and nervous when she had to speak in public. He was so proud of her it was hard to contain sometimes. He wanted to boast about her and her accomplishments all the time but was under strict orders to limit his enthusiasm. It was the same with Clarke and Lola.

The girls may have mocked him earlier, which they loved to do, but it was true that his relationship with Abby was perfect for them. It hadn’t all been plain sailing. They’d fought over the years, especially over Lola and her wild ways. She was too much a mixture of them both, with Abby’s impulsiveness and Kane’s stubborn arrogance at times. She thought she knew best, but she was also blessed with a loving nature and a warm heart, and as much as she worried and angered him at times he also loved her deeply. She was heading towards him now, her hair released from its bun and hanging in soft curls below her shoulders, her long legs striding confidently.

“Hey,” she said as she sat next to him.

“Hey,” Kane replied.

“So, mom doesn’t know about the other things then?”

“No, we’ve managed to keep them from her.”

“She’s going to be so thrilled.”

“Yeah.” Kane turned to look at Lola. “How are you, bug, really?”

“I’m good, honestly.”

“You’re looking after yourself, keeping safe?”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

“Yes, but you know what I mean.”

“I’m fine, dad. Don’t worry.”

“Of course I worry.” Kane put a hand to Lola’s cheek, stroked it softly. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.” Lola smiled. “I’m really hopeful I can get a book deal out of my latest trip. People have expressed interest.”

“Who has expressed interest?”

“People in New York. Travel publishers. I sent a specimen chapter to one and he said it had promise.”

“That’s wonderful. You’re so like your mom, you know.”

“I know. You always tell me that.”

“It’s true. She’s beautiful and spirited and talented, just like you are.”

“Shut up, dad,” said Lola, her cheeks pink.

“Okay,” said Kane, and he was pleased when Lola slipped her hand in his. They sat like that, listening to Abby reading, watching the crowd’s reactions; they seemed to be enraptured like they usually were with Abby’s novels.

\---

Abby watched Marcus and Lola as she waited for her audience to settle. They sometimes had a fraught relationship because she scared the hell out of him with her lifestyle. She was too like him in many ways, not with her recklessness, because Marcus was a cautious man who thought hard before he did anything. No, it was her confidence, her belief in herself and her stubborn refusal to admit that she was wrong that made them butt heads. Abby knew she could be like that too, so Lola probably had no chance of being anything else given her parentage. Abby smiled at the thought.

Lola adored him, though; both girls did. He’d been a wonderful father when they were growing up and was slowly learning to accept that they were now adults. Maybe by the time the girls were in their thirties he would let them go. Probably not. She saw Lola slip her hand in her father’s and Marcus’s proud smile. It made Abby’s heart thump to see it. Twenty-five years and she loved him more than ever. She blinked back a tear.

Abby felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Clarke smiling down at her. “We’re ready now, mom.”

“Okay.” Abby patted Clarke’s hand and the girl stepped to the side.

“Welcome everyone to Kane and Co. Thank you for coming. We’re here to celebrate the launch of _Secrets of the Lake_ , the latest Thomas Berg thriller by Abigail Griffin-Kane, who also happens to be my mom.”

The audience clapped politely. Abby half listened while Clarke talked about her history and her novels. This was her tenth book with the character she’d first written about in the coffee shop in Arkadia Falls when Clarke was a baby. She’d written other things in between but the Berg Mysteries were her readers’ favourites and the biggest sellers. Every time she finished a book she thought she would retire Thomas, but then she got another idea and there was no stopping her. She was addicted to him. Time to move on, though, maybe.

She watched Clarke as she charmed the audience. She was so much more confident than Abby, at home here in the family bookstore where she’d spent a good part of her life, often spending holidays here with her grandma Vera, working in the bookstore, and learning the trade from Marcus in Minneapolis and Arkadia Falls. She was a lot like Marcus, so much so that Lola used to call her his mini-me when she wanted to wind her up. It was true that Clarke was sensible, organised and determined like Marcus. She’d looked up to him since he first came into her life, and it was clear from an early age that she was going to follow him into the business. Abby was so proud of her.

“Mom, you’re up,” said Clarke, breaking into Abby’s reverie.

“Oh, thank you. Thanks for the introduction, Clarke. Good evening, everybody.” Abby took a deep breath and glanced at Marcus who gave her a reassuring nod as he always did. Then she opened her book and started to read.

There were lots of questions after the reading as usual and it was a couple of hours before Abby was able to sit back in her chair and take a deep breath. Clarke stepped forward again.

“Normally at this time I’d thank you all for coming and invite you to buy my mom’s amazing book if you haven’t already, but we have some special presentations to make that my mom knows nothing about, so I’d be grateful if you’d stay with us for a while longer.”

Abby looked up, surprised at Clarke’s words. Her heart started to race; what had her daughter done? She looked around for Marcus, but he wasn’t in his seat. What was going on?

“I’d like to invite my father, Marcus Kane, the CEO of Kane and Co to the stage.”

Abby was shocked as Marcus appeared clutching a statue she recognised because she’d won a few of them over the years. He grinned at her and she smiled back.

“As you all probably know, Abby has been a permanent feature in the New York Times bestseller’s list for a long time now, and she has won numerous awards from all over the world for her novels. But she’s a Minnesota girl through and through, and I know that this award means the most to her. Abby, _Secrets of the Lake_ has won this year’s Minnesota Book Award, and I’m really proud to be able to present you with this trophy.”

Marcus handed her the trophy and moved in to kiss her cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too. Thank you,” said Abby. She turned to the audience, held the trophy up shyly. She was never keen on the attention that came with her job, but she felt comfortable here in their bookstore, surrounded by her family and supporters.

“Thank you so much. I remember the first time I won one of these, for my debut novel _The Cabin at Cloud River_ , and I was so surprised and thrilled I couldn’t believe it. That feeling has never changed. I’m proud and grateful that my stories are read and enjoyed by you all.”

Marcus stayed by her side with his arm around her waist while the audience clapped. He was grinning wildly when she looked at him, more proud than usual if that were possible. “What are you up to?” she whispered to him.

“Me? Nothing.” He kissed her cheek, still smiling.

“That’s not all, mom,” said Clarke. “We have another special guest here tonight.”

Anna Nelson came forward, making Abby gasp with surprise. They hadn’t seen each other for months as Anna was on a long book tour.

“Anna, hi! What are you doing here?” She kissed Anna on both cheeks.

“It’s lovely to see you, Abby,” said Anna, not answering Abby’s question.

Clarke gave something to Anna, who stepped up to the microphone.

“I’ve known Abby for twenty-five years now, almost as long as she’s known her husband. In fact, I was there when they had their first date.” She turned and smiled at Abby and Marcus. Abby smiled nervously back. What the hell was happening?

“Abby came to a reading of one of my books and a few months later at a literary festival she organised with Marcus we talked a lot about northern Minnesota and its natural history. Abby was inspired by my books; I know she won’t mind me telling you that. She was very intrigued by a novel’s sense of place, and how language and people are used to evoke that. I had a feeling back then that she was going to do something great. What I didn’t realise was that she would take the sleepy backwaters of our state and turn them into dark places of mystery and intrigue. Cloud River and its surroundings are where nightmares lurk beneath the benevolent sky and calm lakes. She has used language to take the sense of place and turn it upside down, so that nowhere is what you expect, or how it should be.

“To navigate this underworld she created a character in Thomas Berg who is darker than his surroundings, who is more mysterious than the crimes he investigates. He is brooding and blurs the lines between good and bad. He is not a hero and not an anti-hero. He lives somewhere in between, like the world Abby has created. Yet we love him, and we love the darkness and the flickers of light and hope she occasionally throws our way. She gives us just enough to make us long for more. This is what makes Abby Griffin-Kane an outstanding writer, a cut above the rest in my humble opinion.

“She has put northern Minnesota on the map, brought tourists to the state, boosted the local economy, and not only that I know she works tirelessly to help improve literacy rates amongst our more isolated students, and gives opportunities to budding young authors and journalists through the Jake Griffin Literary Trust she set up and runs.

“Abby, I’m really, really proud and thrilled to present you with Minnesota’s highest honour, The Spirit of Minnesota. Your novels embody our state, its nature and its people, and so do you with your indomitable spirit, your generosity, and above all your amazing talent. Congratulations.”

Abby stood rooted to the spot, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Anna’s words were so kind and unexpected she had tears flowing down her face, and she wiped them away.

“Go on, darling,” said Marcus, and he guided her forward with a gentle hand in her back.

Anna handed Abby her award, and they shared a warm hug while the audience clapped.

“I’m overwhelmed,” said Abby, finally finding her voice. “I don’t know what to say except thank you. You are an inspiration, Anna, and I’ll always be grateful for our friendship.”

“Perhaps you can say a few words for the audience,” said Anna as she released Abby from her embrace.

Abby wiped more tears away, looked at the audience. Lola had joined Clarke at the side of the stage and both girls were crying and clapping. Abby had to look away again otherwise she was never going to get through this. Marcus moved towards her, took her hand in his and she looked up into his warm brown eyes before taking a deep breath to steel herself.

“Erm, I guess I will just say like I always do, that if you have the right support then anything can be overcome, no matter how bad it is at the time. That’s what my Trust is here to do, and that’s the example my husband and I have always tried to set for our children. Supporting each other, whether we’re family or friends or strangers, is the key to helping people be the best they can be, and I’m grateful that the success of my novels has enabled me to help others the way I was helped when I had nothing and was at my lowest point. Thank you so much for this award. I’ll do my best to live up to it.”

The crowd cheered her and then Abby found herself ushered off stage by a journalist and photographer from the Star Tribune who wanted to interview her and take pictures of her with the awards. It was a good half an hour before the doors to Kane & Co were closed and she was finally alone with her family.

“How long have you guys known about this?” she said as they all sat around one of the tables. Clarke and Lola were examining her awards.

“The book award not too long; that news only came out a week ago,” said Clarke. “The Spirit of Minnesota thing dad knew about ages ago, but he swore us to secrecy.”

“I had to,” said Marcus. “I was under pain of death from the committee if I let you know about it.”

“It was a wonderful surprise.”

“You deserve it, mom,” said Lola.

“Is this why you came all the way from India to see me?”

“I...”

“She came cause she was being chased by Indians,” said Clarke with a laugh. “She needed somewhere to hide.”

“Shut up, Clarke,” said Lola, nudging her sister playfully. “That’s not true, mom, well, it is partially, but I’m here for you.”

“And dad’s cooking,” said Clarke.

“It’s too late to cook tonight,” said Marcus, “and my bolognese is up in Arkadia Falls.”

“We could eat out,” said Abby. “What does everyone want?”

“Pizza!” said both girls in unison.

“As if I didn’t know that would be the answer.”

“I raised them well,” said Marcus, smiling. He took his car keys from his pocket, dangled them in the air. “Okay, who wants to drive so daddy can have a glass of wine?”

The girls were predictably silent. “I will,” said Abby, taking the keys from Marcus.

“That doesn’t seem fair, Abby. You should be celebrating.”

“Yeah, mom. I’ll drive,” said Clarke.

“It’s okay. I’d rather be in control, and you swore at that pedestrian last time I was in the car with you, Clarke.”

“She shouldn’t have stepped out into the road!”

“Her light was on green!”

“Whatever.”

“Okay,” said Marcus. “Less squabbling, more moving. I’m starving.”

\---

In the pizzeria Kane sat back in his chair and watched his girls swapping pizza slices between them and laughing while they talked and stuffed it into their mouths. Clarke’s eating habits had improved since he first met her as a small child and she plastered her pizza all over her face, but not by much. Both girls followed Abby’s method of eating which was to curve the slice and take big bites. Kane still preferred to cut his pizza with his knife and fork, an act for which he had been mercilessly mocked since the girls were old enough to talk to each other.

“Its kind of worrying how easily you were able to keep all this from me,” said Abby, who was sitting next to Kane.

“You’re wondering what else I’ve hidden from you over the years.” Kane smirked at her.

“I am.” She looked up at him slyly.

“Well, there was that one time...”

“Shut up,” said Abby, smiling.

“Everyone’s always telling me to shut up! There was a time when a father was feared and respected in his house.”

“In Victorian times maybe,” said Clarke.

“To be fair to dad he was born back then, so...” Lola grinned at Kane.

“You’d better watch yourself, young lady.”

“He wasn’t a terrible father,” said Clarke with a straight face.

“Not unless you messed with his kitchen.”

“That time you broke his expensive pestle and mortar trying to crush up the beads from your necklace.” Clarke laughed.

“Who has an Italian marble pestle and mortar?” said Lola.

“Dad,” said Clarke, and both girls laughed.

“I told you we should have got rid of them both when they turned eighteen,” said Kane to Abby.

“You’d miss them,” she said.

“Some of the time.” Kane smiled, and he put his hand on Abby’s. She laced her fingers through his, and he leaned across and kissed her.

“Oh, God, they’re at it again,” said Clarke, putting her hands over her eyes.

“My entire childhood was blighted by their constant making out,” said Lola.

“It’s good for you girls to see what a healthy relationship looks like.” Kane clinked his glass against Abby’s, then took a sip.

“That must be why me and Clarke are still single then.”

“I didn’t meet your mom until I was thirty-eight, so you’ve got plenty of time.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Erm, to be honest, I might be seeing someone actually.”

“Who?” said Kane with a frown.

“Relax, dad. It’s somebody nice.”

“I bet I know who it is,” said Abby.

“Me too,” said Lola.

“Why am I always the last to know these things? Who is it?”

“It’s Lexa,” said Clarke, looking at him with a slight frown as she tried to gauge his response.

“I knew it!” said Abby.

“Same.” Lola stretched across the table to high five Abby.

“Lexa from Acquisitions?” said Kane, trying to picture who Clarke was referring to. He had a vague image of a girl with long brown hair and a refined nose.

“Yes.”

“Hmm. What’s she like?”

“You should know. You hired her.”

“She’s competent at her job, I know that.”

“That’s high praise from dad, Clarke,” said Lola.

“I know. She’s nice. She’s a good person. She kind of reminds me of dad, which I hate to say.” Clarke laughed.

“Oh, well then,” said Kane with a half-smile.

“I thought maybe I’d bring her up to Arkadia Falls for Thanksgiving, if that’s alright?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Give me a chance to look her over.”

“We’d be delighted to meet her properly, Clarke,” said Abby, giving her daughter a kiss.

Later that night Kane lay in his old childhood bed in the Edina house he’d inherited from his mother, with Abby in his arms.

“You knew about this Lexa girl?” he said.

“I had an idea. Clarke never stops talking about her.”

“I think she’s okay, if I remember her properly. I’ll ask around tomorrow, see what I can find out.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Abby slapped his chest only half in jest. “You have to let Clarke make her own mistakes, not that I think Lexa is a mistake.”

“She’s our baby girl,” said Kane, taking hold of Abby’s hand.

“I know, but she’s an adult now. I was already married at her age, and she’s running the bookstore. She can figure out her own relationships.”

“I suppose. Speaking of our babies. How did Lola seem to you?”

“Her usual self. A bit quieter maybe.”

“I thought that. She seemed more thoughtful, the few brief conversations I had with her.”

“I saw her hold your hand.”

“Yeah, that was nice.”

“Maybe she’s growing up at last. Her book idea sounds promising.”

“I was surprised that she wanted something so formal. I thought the blogging gave her freedom.”

“She has a talent, though, and I think she’s finally realising that, and doesn’t want to waste it.”

“She’s so like you,” said Kane, turning so that he was facing Abby.

“You always say that.”

“That’s what she said.” Kane smiled, put his hand on Abby’s face, stroked her cheek bones which were as sharp and beautiful as ever. “We made beautiful babies.”

“We did.” Abby brought his lips to hers, kissed him softly.

“Shall we make another one?” said Kane, putting his hand under Abby’s pyjama top, feeling her warm skin.

“I think it’s way too late for that,” said Abby.

“We can practice, though.” His hand cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing her nipple.

Abby groaned. “We were always good at practising.”

“Yes, we were,” Kane whispered, and then he pulled her to him and covered her body with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I really loved writing this story and I'm sad it has come to an end... for now! There will be a Christmas special, because I'm just not ready to leave them forever.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos and support. I have really appreciated it. 
> 
> For CT x


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